Red vs Blue: Season 9
by BentleyGirl
Summary: My twelfth novelization of the Red vs. Blue series, this one telling the humorous stories of Epsilon's adventures in the memory of Blood Gulch and the slightly more serious semi-origin story of Project Freelancer. Please read other stories to understand this one. Also please read and review. Rated T for swearing
1. Rounding Error

**Hello, readers. It's been a while since I've been here. As promised, I have spent my time off editing some spelling errors in the previous stories and adding some little extra features courtesy of some drawings by Luke McKay. So with that done, I can begin the next part of the Red vs. Blue series.**

**Now for this series, there are two storylines so I will divide the story into two sections, one showing the typical Red vs. Blue madness that Epsilon went through inside the memory unit and the other showing the more serious origin story of Project Freelancer. For the former, the character Epsilon will be known as Church for convenience's sake and also I will be showing what Luke imaged the characters would look like without their helmets. As for the latter section, I had a little help from one of my regular reviewers on the more difficult scenes, but any more contributions would be greatly accepted. Send them through your reviews or via Private Messaging.**

**Quick reminder: I do not own Halo or Red vs. Blue; they belong to their respective owners, blah, blah, blah.**

**Now let's get this going!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Rounding Error

On a distant planet many light-years from Earth, in a canyon known only as Blood Gulch, a lone figure stood on a hill just outside the Blue Base, feeling the wind blowing through his short black hair. He was dressed in cobalt-blue Mark VI MJOLNIR armor, the kind of armor worn by Spartan-II super-soldiers like him, and he held his helmet under one arm. For a while, the figure was silent then he looked up to the sky as if he knew that someone was watching him, and he felt he needed to introduce himself.

_Hi, my name is Leonard Church. But nobody calls me Leonard. Most people call me Church, sometimes they call me Alpha, and a few people even know me as the Director, but I haven't been called that in a really, really long time. You see, I know that when you look at me, I know I _look_ like a super badass space warrior, but I'm really not. I'm actually a-_

"Hey, Church!"

Church frowned at the shout then cleared his throat.

_Just, uh, ignore him. I'm actually a computer program that's been reincarnated in the memory of-_

"Church!"

_I'm actually a computer program that's been reincarnated in the memory of-_

"Hey, Church, where the hell are you?"

Church sighed in frustration and then shook his head.

_Ok, I'm just gonna start all over. Uh, I'll just… I'm just gonna go back to the beginning._

"Church!"

_Hi, my name is Leonard Church, but nobody calls me-_

"Hey Church, come on!"

Church let out an angry groan then turned round to see a teal-armored Spartan standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the canyon. "God dammit! WHAT?! What do you want, Tucker?"

"Come on!" Tucker called, waving to him. "Get up here!"

"Yeah, okay, _hold on_. For God's sake, I'm coming! Shut up!" Church put his helmet on over his head then set off towards the cliff, muttering angrily to himself. "God dammit, I can't even have one fucking moment to myself. I can't even be alone with my thoughts, not even for a second. Somebody's always gotta fucking yell, or scream or 'come look at this' or 'what's going on over here' or 'hey Church, help me out, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing!' Fucking assholes…"

At the base of the cliff, he turned round, glanced at the canyon and let out a sigh. "God, I forgot how much this place sucks…"

Meanwhile on a ledge at the cliff side, Tucker rejoined his other teammate, a Spartan-II in regulation blue armor named Caboose who was surveying the scene through the scope of the sniper rifle. "Now when he gets up here, remember the plan."

Tucker frowned in confusion. "Plan? What plan?"

"We only have one shot at this," Caboose hissed. "Don't let it fall apart."

"Why are you talking to me like this is supposed to make sense?" Tucker then glowered at Caboose. "Is this another one o' your idiot schemes to make Church your best friend?"

Caboose lowered the sniper and placed a finger on his helmet filter. "Ok, ssshhh… Remember, let me do the talking."

"Do the talking about what, idiot?"

"Don't worry, I got this."

Tucker scratched the top of his helmet in puzzlement. "What would I be worried about? I don't even know what you're doing."

At that moment, Church came up behind Tucker, panting heavily like he'd just run a hundred mile marathon.

"Hey Church," Caboose said cheerily. "Welcome to the cliff."

"Hey guys," Church wheezed, bending double. "Man, whoo…"

"Okay, abort," Caboose declared. "The plan did not work."

"That was it?" Tucker spluttered. "Okay, now I actually want to know: what was the plan? 'Cause apparently phase one was saying hi. What's next, were you going to wave?"

"Abort," Caboose yelled. "Abort!"

"Phew… what're you guys… what do you guys want?" Church asked between gasps for breath.

"Dude, are you fucking dying?" Tucker muttered. "You sound like my vacuum cleaner when it picks up a penny."

"I'm just a little… out of breath… I'm not used to this… It's been a while since I uh, had a human body."

"Oh God, I know," Caboose moaned. "I hate having one of those. I-it's like- it always wants to pee, like all the time."

"What the fuck is everyone talking about today?" Tucker snapped. "Did I miss a staff meeting? What other body would you have?"

"It's uh, it's a long story. Remind me to tell you sometime." Church took a deep breath and then pulled himself upright. "So, uh, what's up? What's going on?"

"We have movement over at the Red Team's base," Tucker replied. "I thought we should check it out. Actually, I thought we should ignore it, but there's really not anything else to do."

"Movement?" Church asked. "What kind of movement?"

"The Red kind," Caboose replied.

Tucker pointed to a hill by the Red Base where three figures, colored red, maroon and bright pink respectively, were gathered by a large armor-plated jeep. "Remember that new vehicle they got? They've been making modifications to it."

"Well, that doesn't sound good," Church muttered. "How are they modifying it?"

"I don't know, why are you asking me?"

"Wait, you've been up here watching them all this time. Can't you make a guess?"

"Well, I don't know, man. They sure as hell ain't installing a stereo."

"Thanks." Church then turned to his gormless teammate. "Caboose, what do you think it is?"

"Yeah, actually I was gonna say stereo," Caboose admitted. "But now it seems like a bad idea to say that, so now I'm going to say… radio."

"That's the same thing, idiot," Tucker retorted.

"Yeah, I know, but I still think I won somehow."

"Here, let me see the sniper rifle," Church said. "I'll check for myself."

As Caboose handed his leader the rifle, Tucker looked concerned. "Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"'Do I know how to use-' Of course I know how to use it." Church put the scope to the left of his visor then frowned. "Hey, where's the um… how do I make it do the thing, the uh… the thing, where everything gets closer? Everything gets closer and bigger? How do I do the closer, bigger thing with it?"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "You mean zoom?"

"Zoom, yeah that's it, zoom," Church replied. "Wait… Oh, are you saying, do I say zoom? Zoom. Zoom, rifle!"

"Press the black button," Tucker sighed, pointing it out on the scope.

"Oh…" Church pressed the button and the image in the scope zoomed in. "Shut up."

"Hey, I didn't say a word, dude," Tucker murmured.

Through the scope, Church observed the actions of the Reds. He could see the pink soldier tightening the nuts at the base of a huge weapon mounted at the back of the vehicle where the machinegun turret used to be while the other two stood back and watched.

"Okay, that'll do her," the pink soldier announced, dropping the wrench on the ground. "Fire her up, boss."

The red soldier nodded then he climbed into the driver's seat and turned on the jeep, making the engine roar.

"Let's test this bad boy out," the pink one declared. "Simmons, hop up!"

With a salute, the maroon soldier climbed onto the turret and grabbed hold of the weapon's triggers.

"Yeah, it looks like they modified their jeep," Church informed his team. "They changed the turret. What is that, some kind of radar dish?"

"I think it's a rocket launcher," Tucker argued.

"That's impossible," Church scoffed. "You can't fire rockets from a jeep, dumbass. There'd be too much uh… torque or something like that. It's probably some kind of like microwave transmitter."

"Well, they were loading rockets into it earlier," Tucker recalled. "So unless they were microwaving explosives for a tasty snack, it's probably a rocket launcher."

"Oh great," Caboose muttered as his stomach began to rumble. "Now I want a snack."

"Hey, didn't you hear what I said about the torque?" Church snapped. "It's probably like-"

Suddenly a rocket shot out from the end of the weapon and slammed into the side of the ledge, knocking Church and Caboose back into the cliff wall.

"_Son of a bitch!_" Church yelled as he slumped to the ground.

"Yeah," Tucker gulped. "I'm feeling pretty confident about my rocket launcher guess."

"Yeah, I don't know," Caboose groaned, getting to his feet. "I think Church was right. I'm pretty sure I just torqued in my pants."

Another rocket hit the base of the ledge and Tucker was thrown backwards by the explosion. "AH!" he yelped as he smacked into the cliff. "I hate being right all the time!"

Down below, the pink soldier let out a cheer. "Yeah! Almost got ya that time, sluts! Reload, Simmons!"

"Alright," Simmons crowed.

"Let's put the next one right up their ass!"

Simmons gave a puzzled grimace. "Uh, okay, sure, but you don't need to say it like that. I think the weapon is equally as effective, no matter where it hits them."

"Start stuffing, Simmons!"

"Okay, okay," Simmons muttered.

On the cliff ledge, Church frowned as he heard the pink soldier's shouts. "Was that Donut?"

"I don't know," Tucker replied with a shrug. "That's the chick who was working on the jeep."

"That's not a girl, Tucker. He just wears pink armor. It's a guy."

Tucker was shocked. "It is? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

As more rockets began to hit the ledge, Tucker gave a nervous grimace. "Uh… then I suddenly feel pretty awkward about something I did twenty minutes ago."

"During Alone Time," Caboose added.

"What the hell is Alone Time?" Church asked.

"Hey, it's one of the rules of the cliff dude," Tucker cut in. "What happens in Alone Time stays in Alone Time."

"What do _you_ do during Alone Time, Caboose?"

"Oh, I do the same stuff I do during Together Time… only half," Caboose replied.

Church stared at him in confusion. "_What?_"

"Another benefit of Alone Time: not listening to him for a few minutes," Tucker chuckled.

On the hill below, Donut threw up his fist in triumph as Simmons fired another rocket at the cliff. "Hoo-rah, bitches! Hoo-fucking-rah!"

"Yeah, take that, Blues!" Simmons jeered.

"The next one's blowing your armor clean off!"

"Or it will just hurt you a lot!" Simmons glared at Donut. "You know, some of us realize that's enough. Why do you keep making it weird?"

Back on the cliff, Church shook his head in bafflement. "_Dammit_… Rocket jeeps? Donut giving orders? This is getting ridiculous." He got to his feet and gave the sniper rifle to Tucker. "I'm putting a stop to this."

As he marched off down the cliff, Tucker jumped up in alarm. "Church, wait!"

At that moment, the cliff gave a sudden tremble.

"Tucker, get down!" Caboose hissed. "They're firing again."

"That wasn't a rocket. That was… something else." Tucker ran up to the edge of the cliff. "Church, where are you going?"

"To set things straight, Tucker," Church called out, making his way towards the Red Base. "If we're going to do this, it has to be done the right way, or there's no point in doing it at all, OK? There's an order to things, Tucker, an _order!_"

* * *

_**PROJECT FREELANCER MCC**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO…**_

Director Leonard Church stared at the leader board on the wall in front of him, his eyes gleaming in anticipation as he regarded the six names on it. If anyone else looked at the screen, they wouldn't understand why it was showing the names of some of the United States of America, names like Washington, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, and so on, but to the Director, the names on the screen were very important to his secret project for winning the War...

Behind him, the door slid open and a dark-skinned figure in dark-blue fatigues stepped into the room. "Our operatives are in position, Director."

"Good," the Director purred in his soft Southern accent. "Send them in."

The man nodded and turned to the table behind him. "If I may say, Sir, my testing indicates that this _might_ not be the best-"

"The system will determine what's best, Counselor," the Director interrupted. "The system will determine the order. Send them in."

* * *

**Ooh, now things are starting to get intriguing.**


	2. The Twins

**We're now heading back to the past for this episode.**

* * *

Chapter 2: The Twins

_**PROJECT FREELANCER MCC**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO…**_

Director Leonard Church stared at the leader board on the wall in front of him, his eyes gleaming in anticipation as he regarded the six names on it. If anyone else looked at the screen, they wouldn't understand why it was showing the names of some of the United States of America, names like Washington, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, and so on, but to the Director, the names on the screen were very important to his secret project for winning the War...

Behind him, the door slid open and a dark-skinned figure in dark-blue fatigues stepped into the room. "Our operatives are in position, Director."

"Good," the Director purred in his soft Southern accent. "Send them in."

The man nodded then he turned to the table behind him and pressed a button. A hologram switched showing an image of a large facility built above a freezing sea. He turned back to the Director with a nervous look. "If I may say, Sir, my testing indicates that this _might_ not be the best _team_ for the job."

"The system will determine what's best, Counselor," the Director insisted. "The system will determine the order. Send them in."

* * *

_**BJORNDAL CRYOGENICS RESEARCH FACILITY**_

_**ARCTIC OCEAN**_

As the chilly wind swept out from the night and over the facility, two grey-armored soldiers marched along the walkways. One soldier, named Murphy, was keeping an eye out for intruders, but it was hard to stay focused when his teammate, Scully, was constantly moaning.

"Christ, is it cold or what?" Scully grunted, rubbing his hands over his body.

"Uh huh," Murphy sighed, as if this argument was one he'd heard before.

"How cold do you think it is?" Scully muttered through chattering teeth. "It has to be at least below freezing, right?"

Murphy ran a hand along the rails of the walkway, brushing off some snow. "Well, there's ice, so, yeah. Freezing."

"Patrolling in the ice… Give me a fucking break." Scully let out an angry sigh as they made their way into a control room. "You know who _doesn't_ have patrol in the middle of the night in the ice?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Murphy sighed.

"Jenkins," Scully replied, marching up to a computer terminal. "I bet Jenkins is sleeping _right now._ Back in his rack, with his big fuckin' melonhead, on a soft pillow…"

"Yeah, that's Jenkins," Murphy muttered as he made his way to the doorway on the other side of the room.

"You know, I had terminal duty 8 weeks straight. Eight weeks, man!"

"Well, lucky you."

"And then I make _one fucking comment_ about the CO to Jenkins, and the next thing you know, I'm out on patrol."

"Uh huh, that's great," Murphy muttered, not really listening. Just then a rope dropped around his head and then tightened around his throat. Murphy tried to cry out, but his breath was choked out as he was hauled up the building.

"Jenkins gets my next terminal duty. And I get to freeze my ass off out here with…" Scully turned round to give Murphy an angry insult… only to find that he was gone. "Murphy? Come on, Murphy. Hey, where are ya?"

He drew out his pistol and stepped cautiously towards the doorway, looking out for his teammate. "Murph? Stop messing around. Murph!"

"Yeah, in here," Murphy's voice called out from another room. "I thought I heard something."

"Oh yeah?" Scully quipped, holstering his pistol. "What'd you hear, a ghost?"

He chuckled to himself as he stepped into the room but then a small red drop dripped down from above. Scully looked down and realized he had just stepped into a pool of blood. With a gulp of horror, he looked up… to see Murphy hanging upside down by his ankles from the ceiling then he found where the blood dripping from: Murphy's throat had been slit open.

"Yeah, I guess you could say something like that," Murphy's voice then said right next to him.

Scully looked round to see a figure wearing purple armor with green highlights on its gloves and leg armor. "What the fuck-" He fumbled for his pistol but the figure punched him in the throat then snatched the gun away and knocked him right over the platform, down into the freezing ocean below.

With a smile to herself, Agent South Dakota tossed the gun away then she switched off the voice modulator in her helmet before activating her radio. "Hey, we clear?"

On the top of a nearby chimney, a second Spartan in dark purple armor with green highlights lay on his stomach, keeping a lookout with his sniper rifle. North Dakota was grateful that the smoke billowing around him was keeping him hidden from view, but at the same time he was starting to feel like a steamed fish. "Yes South, you're clear," he replied to his sister's call. "But watch your corners. The smoke is good for cover, but it's playing hell with my thermals. And the cold isn't helping."

"What's the time?"

"Don't worry about the time. Worry about the objective. Next patrol's in twenty seconds."

"Huh, I'll be gone before that," South sniggered, running out of the room.

"Ok, _slow it down_, South," North warned. "Set your motion trackers."

But South ignored him as she leapt off the ramp and kicked a guard right in the chest, knocking him out and then catching his gun before it could hit the ground. "Nah, takes too long."

"So does getting caught. Set your trackers." North watched as his sister ran into a nearby complex. "South, I do not have visual in there. I can't be your eyes if I can't see."

"Just trust me, North. I got this." South ducked behind a computer terminal and stuck to the shadows as she slipped past the soldiers.

"South, talk to me," North called through her radio.

"Not right now, North," she hissed back. She then ducked into a room and stopped by a large computer screen. "I see the objective, going to initiate transfer." She took out a slim data key from her pocket and inserted it into the terminal.

"While it's loading, _set your Goddamn tracker._ There's bound to be some-" North stopped as he then saw something on his thermal scanner. "South, I got something odd on thermal, two small dots."

South didn't hear him. She was too busy watching the info make its inexorably slow download onto the card. "Come on, come on!"

"South, check your six!" North yelled. "I think something's in there."

Quickly, South drew out her pistol, whirled round and pointed it out… at a rather startled soldier carrying two mugs of steaming hot coffee. Silently he turned his head towards an alarm button next to him then looked back at South who growled, "Don't even think about it."

The soldier looked at South then at the button then back at South. Then he dived forward to hit the alarm, but South fired her pistol, hitting him square on the shoulder. He spun round from the impact, dropping the mugs, but even as he died, his body was still moving towards the button.

"Aw shit…" South turned round to find the download was complete and she snatched the key out before dashing out the room. "It's about to get loud…"

Mere seconds after she left, the soldier's body hit the button.

Outside, North leapt to his feet as a shrill siren began to blare across the facility. "On my way!" He jumped off the chimney and landed behind two guards before smashing their heads together. "Well, so much for keeping quiet. South, meet me at the helipad for extraction!"

"Roger," South replied, taking out three guards as she ran. "I might be a minute."

She leapt off the platform onto a lower walkway, taking out two more guards but then three others opened fire and forced her behind a pillar. But then she ran out the other side and fired back, hitting them in the legs and sending them down. She then ran forward and sent one guard back with a flying-kick then she shot the second guard in the face. The last guard raised his rifle but she knocked him back with some quick punches before smashing her boot into his kneecap, snapping it like an eggshell. As the first guard staggered to his feet, she grabbed his teammate and hurled him into his friend, knocking him back onto some lockers. Before he could recover, South spun round in a roundhouse kick, smashing his helmet right into the locker.

She then ran out onto the walkway as other guards began to surround her. But then sniper rounds slammed into their chests as North dived off an overhead walkway and joined the fray. North then whipped out his SMG and fired right into a soldier's stomach, moving upwards from crotch to chest.

Behind him, South saw another group of soldiers coming towards them. "Shotgun!"

North snatched up the dead guard's shotgun, used it to smack two other soldiers away then he cocked it and tossed it to his sister. "Catch!"

South caught it easily then she whirled round and fired, taking off a soldier's head with one shot. "Thanks!"

Between them, the twin agents took out the other soldiers then they made for the helipad… only to be driven back by several rounds of fire.

As they took cover behind two crates, South quickly did a sitrep. "Snipers, top of that building!"

North reloaded his sniper then turned to his sister. "Switch on my mark. Sync?"

"Sync!"

"Mark!"

They quickly switched positions then North fired at the snipers. South grabbed one of the dead soldiers and ran towards the landing site, using it as a human shield. "Moving!"

"Go go go!" North bellowed, running along behind her.

As they neared the pad, South threw her shield away and then leapt onto the railing.

"Watch your left!" North warned as he took out a sniper.

South ran along the railing until she was right under the platform above the door then she fired at their feet, taking out the other two snipers.

North ran up to the door, keeping his sniper trained at the approaching soldiers. "Get the door, I'll hold them off."

South pressed some buttons on the keypad then the door slid open. "We're good, let's move."

Quickly, the two Freelancers ducked through the door and ran towards the landing pad as more soldiers charged towards them. South fired at them before going into a slide and knocking one soldier flying.

"Switch!" North swooped around his sister and took out four guards with his SMG while South leapfrogged over his head and kicked another guard aside. "Move!"

They ran on down the walkway, executing every soldier they met, until they reached the helipad, a large platform surrounded by three long walkways, walkways that were filled with dozens of soldiers armed to the teeth.

"Oh **come on**," South groaned.

On one walkway, a soldier in red-trimmed armor stood by a turret and gave his warnings to the two agents. "Attention, _assholes!_ Stand down. You're surrounded. Give us the data file now!"

* * *

**Well, this mission's going well, isn't it?**


	3. Number One

**We now see how North and South are gonna get out of their situation.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Number One

The Director gave a frustrated sigh as he assessed the situation at Bjørndal. He shouldn't have been surprised at South's brash behavior. She'd always been a bit of a troublemaker; he didn't know how her brother kept her in line, or how she made it onto the list. But he knew that if something wasn't done soon, he would lose two potential Freelancers.

At that moment, one of the operators looked up from his work. "Situation is critical, sir. Should we do something?"

"Yes," the Director replied, looking at the list behind him. "Send her in."

"Roger that." The operator switched on the radio in his console. "Come in, Number One. Number One, you are green."

The Director glanced back at the holographic map. "Activate failsafe."

"Copy, sir," the operator said. "Initiating beta protocol…"

At Bjørndal, as he stood back to back with his sister, North's heart sank as he stared at the soldiers taking aim at them. "Well, out of the frying pan and into the fire."

"Eh, think I could take about _fifty_ of 'em," South quipped. "How 'bout you?"

"How 'bout you save your jokes until we get out of this?" North scowled.

South glared up at the night sky. "Where the hell is extraction?"

On the middle walkway, the leader of the soldiers continued his warnings. "Attention, _assholes!_ Stand down. You're surrounded. Give us the data file now!"

But while he was shouting, behind them, a dark-armored figure crept along the shadows towards them, preparing to strike at the right moment.

"You _will_ be taken into custody!" the leader continued. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way! There is no escape, so give us the damn data file!"

But then, just as the soldiers took aim, the figure leapt out of the shadows and kicked three soldiers off the platform. Then it kicked another soldier back, knocking the leader away from the turret. Then the figure grabbed the turret and fired it at the support beam of another walkway, causing it to collapse.

"Get down!" North grabbed his sister and shielded her with his body as the soldiers slid off the platform and onto the landing pad. He looked up as the figure did the same thing with the third walkway. "Son of a bitch..."

"What's going on?" South asked, pulling away from her brother's hug.

"It's her."

"What?" South stared up at the figure. "What's she doing here?"

The figure fired the turret a bit more before stepping back and kicking the barrel, sending it spiraling around as it fired. Then she did a back-flip off the walkway and down towards the twins. As she flew, her armor shifted its color so that when she landed, it was light blue. The soldiers stared at the change in amazement, but North and South just shrugged their shoulders. After all, they didn't expect anything different from their fellow Freelancer, Agent Carolina.

"Okay, my turn." Carolina charged at the recovering soldiers with unnatural speed and took them out in a flurry of kicks, punches, cartwheels and sprints. The twins swapped looks of relief before raising their weapons and charging into the fray.

Amidst the chaos, one soldier scrabbled along the ground in a frantic panic. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." Then his hands clasped around a battle rifle and he leapt to his feet in triumph. "Oh _yes_, a rifle! I'm saved!"

As he opened fire on the Freelancers, another soldier came running up to him. "Uh, hey man, I hate to bother you, but I think that's my rifle you're holding."

"What the hell are you talking about? Just _grab_ any rifle! Like, look at that, there is seriously a pile of rifles right there."

"No, that's my good luck rifle. That's the one I sleep with every night."

"Are you kidding me, man?"

The argument was interrupted when South kicked them both off the helipad.

As the battle raged on and the Freelancers were gaining the upper hand, on the walkway, the leader grabbed onto the turret, swung it round and aimed directly at South.

But North spotted him just as he hit the trigger. "South, look out!" He dived forward and knocked his sister out the way, just as the turret opened fire. North cried out in pain as several bullets hit him right in the chest, with one hitting his visor, and he was thrown backwards to the ground.

"North, NO!" South screamed.

Carolina looked round at this and jumped aside to avoid the turret's fire. Then she drew out her hook-shot and fired a grappling hook right at the turret.

The leader jumped back as the hook caught on the barrel. "What the-"

Wasting no time, Carolina pulled on the gun and the turret was yanked down to the walkway. As it fired, the bullets cut through the platform like a table saw, and it split clean in two. Several soldiers slid off the walkway and down into the sea, but the leader landed on a small ledge and managed to hang on.

South got her wounded brother to her feet and led him over to the edge of the helipad. "I got you. Move."

At the railing, they raised their guns and fired at the remaining soldiers, but South knew that North wouldn't last long with those injuries. She quickly got on the radio. "Come in, Command! We have wounded. You need to get us out of here, _right now!_"

Carolina then ran up behind them and grabbed their back armor. "Come on, you two. We're leaving." And with that, she pulled them backwards over the railing.

The last soldiers left swapped baffled looks with each other. Surely the Freelancers wouldn't have been _that_ stupid to jump over the edge like that? As they stepped towards the railing, they suddenly heard a loud roar of jet engines… and then, a Pelican-Class drop-ship rose up from behind the edge. It took a moment for the soldiers to realize that the Freelancers were standing right on the roof.

"Sorry about the mess," Carolina called out. She then led the twins across the roof towards the nearby hatch. "Package is secure," she informed her superiors over the radio. "Everybody on board."

She left South to help her brother and made her way down the ladder into the troop bay then made her way to the cockpit where the pilot was waiting.

"Somebody call for a ride?" the pilot joked.

"You're late," Carolina scowled as she got in the co-pilot's seat.

"Ah well, you can take it out of my tip." The pilot swung the Pelican around and took off across the Arctic Ocean, as behind them, the entire facility was destroyed in a massive explosion…

* * *

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-B (RED BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

As Simmons opened fire on the cliff where the Blues were hiding, Donut let out a cheer. "Nice shot. Hit them again, Simmons."

"Roger." Simmons pressed the trigger and another round of rockets shot out and slammed into the cliff.

"Did we hit 'em?" Sarge called, climbing out of the driver seat.

"I don't know," Simmons said. "It's hard to tell."

"Missed, bitches!" Tucker called out.

"Ah, dammit," Simmons groaned.

"I have a plan," Donut declared. "We need to use stealth."

"Great idea," Simmons agreed, climbing off the rocket launcher.

"Ok." Donut rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Let's try this: Sir, you lay down some cover fire. Simmons, the two of us can sneak around their backsides and slip on in."

"Okay, just saying stealth was enough, man," Simmons sighed. "We don't need to expand on good ideas, especially after other people have already agreed to them."

"Sounds good, Sir," Sarge said then corrected himself. "I mean, wait, _I'm_ the Sir. But we should do that. Make it so."

"Hey Reds, yo! Hold on a second. Cease fire."

The Reds turned round at those shouts to see a cobalt-blue Spartan approaching them from the cliff. "Who the hell is that?" Donut asked.

"It's one of the Blue guys," Sarge said. "He's just walking up here."

"By himself?" Donut let out a snigger as he drew out his battle rifle. "That guy is fucked."

"Totally," Simmons agreed as he and Sarge drew out their weapons.

"He's gonna get totally fucked."

"Ok, see? Right there," Simmons cried. "You changed the way you said it again. Could you not do that please?"

"Hey guys," Church called out as he got closer. "Can you hear? Hello?" Suddenly rifle fire hit the ground in front of his feet and he jumped back with a yelp. "Ah! _What the hell?_ Cease fire, man, it's me!"

"Yeah, we know it's you, dipshit," Donut growled. "That's why we're shooting."

"I just wanna talk for a second," Church shouted, raising his hands to show he meant no harm.

"Yeah, so what?" Simmons snapped. "What does that mean?"

"You know, I just wanna talk to you about… uh… some-" Church broke off as the penny dropped, with a very horrible clang. "Oh shit, I think I fucked up. I fucked up, didn't I? You guys don't know who I am."

"Maybe we should give him a chance," Sarge muttered, lowering his shotgun. "Let's see what he has to say. He could provide some intel by accident. Or give us the Blue perspective. I always wanted to hear that."

"I wanna shoot him," Donut snarled.

"Ok, just to be clear," Simmons hissed. "I understand what you meant by that. I get that you want to shoot him with _bullets._"

"Red _hot_ bullets."

"Please, that's enough," Simmons yelled.

"Let's hear him out," Sarge insisted. "Then we shoot him."

"How 'bout I just wound him?" Donut suggested. "Then he can still talk and I get to shoot him. That's a win-win."

"Not for me," Church cut in. "I get shot!"

"Okay, how 'bout this?" Simmons decided. "Donut gets to shoot you in exchange for you getting what you need to say."

"Five minutes of talking for one shot…" Donut nodded in agreement then drew out his pistol. "Where do you want it, Blue; the shoulder or the foot?"

"Well, obviously I would pick the foot," Church started to say, "but I don't want you guys to shoot me in-"

"Deal," Donut interrupted and fired a shot.

"OW!" Church yelped as he slumped to the ground. "SON OF A BITCH!"

"Okay," Donut said, holstering his gun. "Your five minutes have started. Go."

* * *

**Yikes! Who are you and what have you done with Donut?**


	4. Evacuation Plan

**We're still in the present at the moment, but we'll see more past action in a bit.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Evacuation Plan

On the cliff overlooking the Red Base, Tucker watched the scene unfold in alarm. Then Caboose came up behind him. "What happened?"

"One of the Reds just shot Church in the foot," Tucker replied.

"_Ow, that fucking hurt!_" Church yelled.

Tucker turned to Caboose in concern. "Do you think we should try to help?"

"I don't really see how we can," Caboose said, taking aim with the sniper. "I can't really get a clear shot of Church from this angle."

At the Red Base, Church let out a groan as he clutched his bleeding foot. "Ow, man you guys are a bunch of dicks. I just got this foot."

"Four minutes left," Simmons reminded him.

Church knew his time was running out so he got straight to the point. "I just wanna say that you guys are all mixed up. You're doing it wrong."

Donut raised an eyebrow. "Doing what wrong?"

"This!" Church replied, gesturing at the Reds. "Your team. Like, where's Grif?"

"He's in the base cleaning up," Donut replied, jerking a thumb at the main entrance. "He loves to keep things tidy."

"No, no, no, see?" Church cut in. "That's not right; this isn't the way things are supposed to be. It got all confused somehow. Grif isn't tidy at all, he's filthy."

"He's gonna wash his hands for a week if he hears you say that," Simmons sneered.

"Grif, come on!" Church called out. "Get out here, man!"

"I'm doing my second coat of floor wax!" Grif shouted back in reply. "That's when the _shine_ comes to life. I'll be out in a minute."

Church sighed and turned to the Red leader. "Sarge, come on. Be Sarge, yell at him. Get him out here."

Sarge looked baffled. "Why would I yell at a subordinate? It seems unfair to yell at someone who can't yell back."

"What, that's s- WHAT?!" Church yelled.

Sarge then glanced at Simmons and Donut. "Hey, sorry about calling you fellas subordinates. No offense meant."

"This is so lame," Church groaned, slapping a hand to his visor.

"None taken, boss," Donut reassured.

"I actually kinda like being talked down to," Simmons added.

"Okay, seriously?" Church cried. "Sarge, come on. You _love_ being in charge. Tell these guys to, you know, shape up or somethin'."

"Well," Sarge muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess they could be doing a better job."

"How?" Donut asked.

"Uh…" Sarge just shrugged. "I just want you guys to feel like you're reaching your full potential."

"I know I am."

"Me too," Simmons added.

"My potential is so full, I feel like I could fill up a couple of _other_ soldiers' potential."

"God dammit," Simmons sighed. "Mine's just the regular kind of full."

"And Donut, come on, man," Church said. "This isn't you. You're supposed to be, you know, free spirited, not some kind of repressed, overachieving jarhead."

"One minute left," Simmons said.

"Dude, what fucking clock are you using?" Church scowled. "It's only been like fifteen seconds."

"Yeah?" Simmons snapped. "Well, what about me, Blue guy? Am I supposed to be different too, you know, someone less nerdy and not lonely every second of the day?"

"No, you're pretty much spot on, Simmons," Church admitted.

"Oh, okay. Great."

Donut then raised his rifle again. "I've heard just about all I want out of this guy."

"Alright, I'm leaving," Church announced, getting painfully back to his feet. "Just remember, this isn't the way things are meant to be. You know it, and I know it." He turned to the pink private again. "Donut, you're a nice guy. You're not a jerk. Try expressing yourself a little bit, you know, like, start keeping a, uh, like a journal or a diary, or something like that."

Donut gave an uncomfortable cough and then growled, "A what?"

"Never mind, never mind. I'm leaving, I'm leaving. I'm gonna limp home now, okay?" And with that, Church set off back to base, giving a wincing cry with every alternate step. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…"

Sarge watched him hobble over the hill then he shook his head and tutted, "The nerve of that guy. He's just tryin' to get into our heads. Right?"

"How did he know about my diary?" Donut mumbled under his breath.

"Your what?" Simmons asked.

"Nothing," Donut stammered. "I have… I have to go, log this in, in my logbook."

With that, he ran off into the base. As he came in, Grif yelled out, "Donut, don't track mud in here! You know better!"

Sarge then turned to his pet private. "What do you think, Simmons?"

"Hard to say, Sir," Simmons confessed, staring at the still limping Church. "He was talking nonsense, but he sounded so sure of himself. I think he should count himself lucky he got out of this one alive."

* * *

_**SOMEWHERE OVER THE ARCTIC OCEAN**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

As the Pelican zoomed away from the destroyed facility, Carolina settled down for the long trip back. Then Pilot Four Seven Niner looked up from her seat. "Incoming transmission."

"I got this." Carolina pressed a button on her console and a small screen swung down from the ceiling. "This is vehicle Four Seven Niner, go for secure."

"Secure. Hello, Agent Carolina."

Carolina smiled at the voice and the glowing blue orb that appeared on the screen. The voice of the Director's AI friend, the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System, always calmed her down after a stressful mission. "Good morning, FILSS. Nice to hear your voice."

"Is this a bad time?" FILSS asked. "You sound occupied."

"The LZ got a little… hot. We may be late for the rendezvous, but we'll get there. Don't leave without us."

"Understood. It sounds like the Director was right to send you along to assist the teams."

"Seems that way. But I can't say everyone on board feels the same."

"All Agents accounted for, excellent work."

Carolina glanced at the mission headcount on the screen next to her and frowned. "FILSS, I see a blank spot in the head count. Please verify."

"We will see you at the rendezvous, Agent Carolina," FILSS said, ignoring the statement. "Fly safe, and have a nice day."

Carolina's frown deepened. Why would FILSS lie to her about the missing member? Was she hiding something from her? She then shook her head. _Must be a fluke… _"Roger that. Carolina out." As FILSS disappeared from the screen, she switched on the radio to the troop bay. "South, check your six."

In the troop bay, South placed her unconscious brother into a seat and lowered the guard rail over him. Then she ran over to the window at the back of the ship and peered outside. With a gasp, she ran up to the radio and switched it on. "Heads up, we've got company back here."

Four Seven Niner glanced at the tracking radar and saw they were being pursued by two large stingray-shaped fighter jets. From the speed they were travelling at, the pilot guessed that they were Longsword-Class Interceptors. "Who are your friends?"

"Just some people we met at the party," Carolina quipped nonchalantly.

Four Seven Niner flinched as the Longswords' pilots opened fire. "They seem nice."

The Longswords fired at them, but the pilot swerved the Pelican side to side to avoid the blows. Then she slowed down so that the fighter jets shot right over them.

"Nice moves," Carolina beamed, pressing some buttons on her flight wheel. "Firing missiles."

Four missiles shot out from the ship's front and zoomed towards the Longswords, but the pilots on board used some quick maneuvers of their own, forcing the missiles to smash into the ice sheet before setting off after the Pelican again.

As the ship swerved and weaved to avoid the gunfire, South staggered across the loading bay and stood in the cockpit's doorway. "Can't you get us out of here?"

"I'm working on it," Four Seven Niner retorted.

Just then a red light began flashing next to South and a loud beeping rang out. "What's that noise?"

"They have missile lock."

"That's bad."

"Yeah, that's bad."

"Take evasive maneuvers!"

"I'm _trying._"

"Well, try harder!"

Four Seven Niner glanced back at the impulsive Freelancer. "Hey South, do me a favor, would ya?"

"What?"

The pilot then pressed a button on the console and the cockpit door slid shut in front of South, locking out. "Thanks."

"You stupid bitch!" South's muffled voice yelled out.

At that moment, the Longswords fired their heat-seeking missiles straight at the Pelican. Four Seven Niner quickly slammed her hand on another button. "Releasing flares!"

At the back of the ship, a panel slid up and several flares shot out into the sky. Some of the missiles hit the flares, but others managed to hit the Pelican.

As the ship rocked with the explosions, South was thrown around the loading dock like a stone in a tumble dryer. "I hate flying!"

She then hit her head on a guard rail opposite her brother and slumped to the ground unconscious. At the same time, North slowly came to with a groan.

"Hey, everyone hold on back there," Four Seven Niner called out. "Things are about to get a little um…"

"Bumpy?" Carolina asked helpfully.

"Yeah," the pilot nodded. "Well, I was gonna say crashy, but bumpy works."

She then steered the Pelican down towards a large crack in the ice shelf, but the missiles kept right on their tail. Swooping and swerving through the canyon like an X-wing in the Death Star trench, she managed to get the missiles to hit the walls around them but still the Longswords pursued them.

"Countermeasures depleted." Carolina got on the radio to the troop bay. "North, get moving. I'm clearing you for equipment usage."

"Whatever you're gonna do back there, do it fast," Four Seven Niner added.

North lowered the guard rail over his sister and gently patted her helmet. "Stay safe, kiddo."

He then stumbled towards the ladder that led to the roof, but his HUD was showing 'Helmet Malfunction' so he took it off and tossed it aside. He climbed the ladder to the top and opened the hatch. The wind whipped around him as he stepped onto the roof, but the magnetic clamps in his boots prevented him from getting blown off. As he stood up, he felt the wind ruffling his blonde curly hair and he wiped the blood off the wound on his left cheek. "Well, here goes nothing…"

As the Longswords fired off another volley of missiles, North pressed a button on his left wrist and then slammed his fist onto the Pelican's roof. At once, a huge domed energy shield billowed out from his armor and surrounded the back off the ship, taking the missiles' blows, but the ship was knocked off course, careening towards the sea.

"Pull up, pull up!" Carolina screamed.

Four Seven Niner pulled back on the flight wheel and just managed to get the Pelican balanced moments before it could crash into the sea.

Jostled in her seat by the near miss, Carolina looked up to see they were approached a huge bank of clouds then the screen began to flash up. "There's the rendezvous point," she informed the pilot. "If we're gonna make it, you better punch it."

In the loading bay, North made it to the bottom of the ladder and collapsed to the floor. He gave a last glance at his sister to check that she was still OK before passing out where he lay.

Behind them, the Longswords were gaining on them. But then suddenly, a huge beam of light shot out from the clouds and took out one of the fighter jets.

"Whoa!" Carolina looked round at the spot where the beam had come from… just as a huge ship emerged from the clouds. It was long and pointed, shaped almost like a giant pistol. Its bulk was adorned with lights and long antennae. On the side, Carolina could see the ship's name: _Mother of Invention_

At the sight of this massive frigate, the other Longsword turned to run but the _Mother of Invention_ fired another beam of light and destroyed it too.

With a sigh of relief, Four Seven Niner switched on the radio. "_Mother of Invention_, we are inbound."

"We will have medical personnel waiting for you in the landing bay," FILSS informed them. "Welcome home, Four Seven Niner."

Carolina just smiled as the pilot steered the Pelican around the frigate. "Thank you, FILSS. It's good to be home."

* * *

**Whew, now that was an exciting moment!**


	5. Realignments

**We've now come back in the present again for this episode.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Realignment

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A (BLUE BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

After a long and very painful journey, Church finally came into sight of the Blue Base, still moaning with every other step he took. "Ow, ow, ow, ow…"

As he reached the entrance, Caboose came running down the ramp to meet him. "Church, you're home! Welcome back."

"Yeah," Church grunted, stopping by the doorway. "Yeah, thanks for helping me while the Reds just shoot me in the goddamn foot."

"Yeah, well you told us to stay on the cliff and I did," Caboose said. "Yeah, that was helping."

"Oh really?" Church growled. "Then why aren't you on the cliff right now?"

"Oh," Caboose muttered. "I thought the helping part was over."

Church sighed and hobbled into the Base. "Ow, ow, ow, assholes, ow…"

He limped all the way into the medical ward, passing Tucker as he did. As he sat down on the gurney, Tucker came in. "You're back already?"

"What do you mean 'already'?" Church yelled. "It took me half an hour to limp across this goddamn canyon."

"Yeah, but we thought they were going to kill you," Tucker said. "I expected you back never, so in my mind you're early."

"Shut up," Church snapped.

"He is right about the two different times," Caboose put in, poking his head round the corner.

"You shut up too."

"Alright, now the helping part is _definitely over!_" Caboose scowled, disappearing down the passage.

Church carefully removed his boot and assessed the damage done to his foot. He could feel something lodged in there so he guessed the bullet must have gotten stuck in his foot. With a sigh, he picked up a pair of medical tweezers and started digging inside the wound. "Damn it. This is exactly what I get for trying to fix things."

"What are you fixing?" Tucker asked.

"Everything, _us,_ the Reds, trying to make things the way they're supposed to be." Church finally found the bullet and yanked it out with a painful groan. "OW, my foot!"

Tucker gave a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Church winced angrily. "Do I _look_ okay? Do I sound okay?"

"I don't know," Tucker replied with a shrug. "You're wearing full body armor and bleeding. That means you're either dying or just whining."

"Well, I'm hurt alright."

"Do you want me to call Command? Have them send a medic or-"

"No! No medic. I'm not hurt _that_ bad." Church picked up a roll of bandages, removed the packaging and began to wrap it around his wounded foot. "Besides, those guys are just… bad luck."

At that moment, Caboose came back into the ward. "I already called Command."

Church looked up in surprise. "You did?"

"Caboose, you're not allowed to use the radio," Tucker yelled.

"Right," Caboose said. "Unless it's an emergency, and then I can use it to call Command… and also 800 numbers I see on TV 'cause those are free."

"800 numbers?" Church asked.

"Damn it, Caboose," Tucker groaned. "What did you order this time?"

"Nothing," Caboose muttered.

Tucker glared at him. "Caboose…"

"I promise you'll not see anything show up here that I ordered. Nothing at all… for at least six to eight weeks."

"Damn it."

Church was still puzzled. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"Well, you sound upset," Caboose said. "You probably want some beef jerky. It'll be ready in six to eight weeks."

Tucker's shoulders sagged in exasperation. "You ordered a food dehydrator, didn't you?"

"Oh, you won't be so mad when we are storing _twice_ as much ammo as we normally can."

Tucker sighed and slapped his hand over his visor. "For the billionth time, Caboose, you can't dehydrate bullets."

With a chuckle, Church finished his crude dressing and picked up his boot. "You actually order all those stupid gadgets that you see on TV?"

"Maybe," Caboose admitted. "Sometimes, and that Special Forces person also."

"You idiot," Tucker muttered.

Church let out a laugh then he gasped and dropped his boot, letting it clutter on the floor. "Wait, what did you say?"

"Oh, yes," Caboose suddenly remembered. "Yes, they are sending someone to help us."

"Command is?"

"Yes." Caboose then looked worried. "Unless that's bad, in which case I don't know what you are talking about."

"What?" Church leapt to his feet, giving a slight wince of pain. "They aren't supposed to send anybody until after I die."

"We thought you _were_ dead, dude," Tucker reminded him. "You walked into Red Base."

Church placed his hands on his blue teammate's shoulders and stared into his visor. "Caboose, did they say _who_ they were sending?"

"Uh, yes, they definitely did," Caboose replied then he paused.

Church swapped a worried look with Tucker then looked back at Caboose. "Okay, do you remember who they-"

"No," Caboose cut in.

"God dammit," Church sighed, dropping his hands.

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Simmons wandered down the passages until he spotted his orange-armored teammate leaning on a mop outside the sleeping quarters, pulling off a pair of latex gloves. "Hey, Grif. Grif!"

At the sound of his name, Grif looked up and held out a hand. "Stop right there, Simmons!"

Simmons paused in his tracks, one foot hovering over the shiny passage floor. "What, is it danger? The Blues?"

"No." Grif pointed to a sign reading 'Slippery when wet' right in the middle of the passage. "You are _not_ walking across _my_ floor with those boots. I _just_ mopped it."

Simmons sighed and moved his foot away from the floor. "Grif, there's no time for this."

"Time for what, Simmons, a 'job well done?' There's always time for that. I believe you know my motto."

"You don't have a motto."

"That's right, because there's always something more productive that I could be doing. Who has time to sit around and make up mottos when they could be buffing the floor?"

"Well, I need to get through."

Grif shook his head and folded his arms. "Sorry, you're just going to have to wait five more minutes. It's not that long. Just do what I do, count to three, a hundred times."

Simmons frowned and scratched the top of his helmet. "Why wouldn't I just count to three hundred?"

"Because doing things three times is fun; turning off light switches, locking the door, turning off light switches…"

"You said turning off light switches twice."

"You're right. I should probably say it a third time just to make sure no one I love dies. Turning off light switches, there that feels better."

Simmons shook his head in dismay. "Dude, you have issues."

"I also have a clean floor which you can't walk on," Grif added.

"But I need to get-"

"Simmons, you know the rules, and what happens when we abandon the rules? Everybody gets germs and dies."

Simmons looked ready to punch Grif in the face when an idea came to mind. "Oh, silly me. I forgot the reason I came in here. Sarge wants you to take a break, Grif. You're on break _right now._"

"A break?" Grif looked confused. "Um, I'm not familiar with the concept."

"Just stop working. Relax."

"Relax? Uh, yeah right… and how exactly would I go about doing that? Is there like a manual I could read or something?"

"Just stop cleaning," Simmons snapped. "Do nothing. What happened to Donut?"

Grif jerked his thumb towards the sleeping quarters. "He in his bunk, reading that book he always reads."

"What book?"

"I don't know," Grif shrugged. "I don't ask and he doesn't tell. It's got flowers on it."

"_Flowers?_"

"And drawings of things like hearts. He likes to read it and cry."

"I'm not crying!" Donut sniffed, stepping out of the quarters.

"There you are," Simmons beamed. "Sarge needs your help, Donut. We're building a robot using that robot building kit Command sent us."

Donut turned away sadly. "I'm not really feeling up to it today."

Simmons gave a sympathetic smile. "That Blue guy got you depressed? You're bothered by what he said, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Why did you listen to him? I didn't even know you _had_ feelings, Donut."

"Well I do, okay."

"Whatever," Simmons sighed. "Come help us if you want, up to you."

"Okay, I'll be out in a minute." Donut lifted his helmet up so he could wipe the tears from his eyes. "I wanna get my head together. I need to clean my weapon, maybe light a few candles."

Simmons frowned. "Um, candle's really the best light source for field-stripping a pistol."

Donut gave an angry snort. "Not everything is about function, Simmons." With that, he stormed off down the passage.

Simmons just stared after him in bafflement. "What did I say?"

"Huh, what?" Grif, who'd been quiet during the conversation, looked round at this. "Sorry, I wasn't listening. I was kinda doing nothing."

Simmons then looked down and noticed the dirty trail of footprints on the floor. "Looks like Donut got tracks all over your shiny floor." He took a cautious step back, expecting Grif to explode in unbridled fury.

But to his amazement, Grif just gave a dismissive shrug. "Oh well, I'm on break anyway, right? Why should I give a fuck?"

Suddenly, the whole base shook as the earth gave a violent tremble. Simmons looked around in shock, but Grif just smiled like he'd had an epiphany. "Whoa, that felt really good to say that."

"What is wrong with everyone?!" Simmons then sighed as he set off down the passage. "Man, I hate when things change."

* * *

_**ON BOARD THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**THE DEPTHS OF SPACE**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

As the Director made some brief consultations with the Counselor, Carolina took a moment to look at her fellow Freelancers. She noticed that South's posture was a little tense; she was always more nervous when she was in the Director's office. She then turned to North and gave him a small nod. The medical team had done a great job in helping him recover from his severe injuries, although he now had a scar on his left cheek. North noticed her looking at him and gave a quick thumbs-up.

Carolina then looked up at the leader board behind the Director. She never understood why the Director was giving them scores based on their progress in the missions and what he was planning for all of them, but she was slightly worried of the competition that the other Freelancers would be trying, determined to get on the top of the list.

At the moment, Carolina was at the top of the list. At number two was Agent York; Carolina was quite fond of him because he liked to make jokes to lighten up the atmosphere, whether they were on a mission or just chilling around on the _Mother of Invention._ In third place was Agent Wyoming, the very British fellow; he seemed harmless enough, but she was a little suspicious of him. At fourth and fifth place were South and North. And in sixth place was Agent Washington, the most trusting of all the Freelancers. That was how the leader board showed, but she knew that any action taken in the field could change their ratings, for better or worse.

At that moment, the Director turned to the Agents and Carolina quickly stood back to attention.

"The data you recovered has pinpointed the location of a very important target for Project Freelancer." The Director gave an approving smile. "Excellent work."

"Thank you, Sir!" the three Agents said at the same time.

The Director nodded then turned to the man beside him. "Counselor, please update the board."

With a nod, the Counselor pressed some buttons on his handheld pad. Carolina looked up at the board and was pleased to see her place at the top was still secure. She then looked down in time to see North's name swap places with South's so that he was now in fourth place. The Director gave a little nod. "That is all. Dismissed."

North and Carolina nodded in reply, but South just stepped back in alarm. Then she ripped off her helmet and glared at the Director, fury burning in her grey eyes. "I thought you said the mission was a _success,_ Sir?"

"One of the mission objectives was _stealth,_" the Director retorted. "Your carelessness revealed our intention and made our next mission more difficult. They'll be ready for us. Dismissed."

South looked despondent for a moment then she tossed back her short blonde hair, picked up her helmet and strode towards the door.

Carolina watched her go then she turned to North. "Think I should talk to her?"

North looked round as South punched the door control panel so hard that she actually broke it and then stormed out the room then he turned back to Carolina. "Maybe we should give her a minute."

* * *

**Yeah, that's probably a good idea, North.**


	6. Familiar Feelings

**Things are getting back to normal in Blood Gulch… if you can call it that.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Familiar Feelings

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A (BLUE BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

On the roof of the Base, Church paced around Caboose, hoping to get some info on the radio call he'd sent. "Okay, Caboose, think back," he said slowly and clearly like he was talking to a young child. "When you called Command about the Special Forces person, what did they say to you?"

Caboose thought harder than he'd ever done before. "They said, 'This is Command. We read you, Blue Base.'"

"After that," Church said.

"'Roger. Over and out,'" Caboose replied.

"Before that," Church grunted. "Somewhere between those two; 'Goodbye' and 'Hello 'are not the important parts of the conversation."

"No, I know," Caboose agreed. "And my name isn't even Roger… although that is a very cool name. I wonder if it fits." He cleared his throat then spoke in a stern voice. "'Roger, shut up.' 'Roger, don't put that in your mouth.' 'Roger, put that down.' 'Roger, will you please be my best friend? Signed, Church. PS Your new name is the best. I like it. Signed, Church… again.'"

"What did they tell you in the middle?" Church growled, losing his temper. "What did they say? I need you to focus, Caboose."

Caboose didn't respond and Church gave an angry sigh. "I need you to focus, Roger."

"Okay," Caboose said, perking up again. "They said that since one of our troops was hurt, and that we're outnumbered, they would send us a special agent to help us recover."

Church nodded, grateful to be getting somewhere at last. "And they said that agent would be here…"

"Yes."

"No, no, not yes. When?"

"When I was on the call with them."

"I mean the special agent."

"No, no, see, the operator said that."

"_When?!_" Church bellowed.

"When I called Command," Caboose shouted back. "How else would they tell me?"

"Okay, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop." Church took off his helmet and placed his hand on the side of his head to get his mind clear. "Let's just go through this step by step, okay?" He took a deep breath to calm down then looked at Caboose. "You called Command."

"Yes." Caboose nodded.

"And they said they were sending a special agent."

"Yes."

"To our base."

"Yes."

"When did they say the special agent was coming?"

Caboose thought for a moment. "Oh, right before they gave me my new nickname."

"God _dammit,_ Caboose!" Church yelled, throwing his helmet down on the roof. "Alright, just forget it!" With that, he stormed off down the ramp.

"No, see, it's Roger now, remember?" Caboose called out. "See, I know it can be confusing sometimes, Church. You have to keep up."

Tucker spotted Church as he angrily marched away then he turned to Caboose. "Hey Roger, what's wrong with Church?"

"Oh, I don't know," Caboose muttered. "He's having trouble understanding something. You know how he is with that."

Meanwhile, outside the Red Base, work was progressing nicely on the robot. Sarge was just finishing off the legs, Simmons was busy putting the head together and Grif was just lazing around by some boulders.

Donut came out of the base, having gotten over his breakdown, and went over to Sarge and Simmons. "Wow guys, your robot is looking great!"

"Thanks," Sarge replied, getting to his feet as he finished his work. "I didn't even know I was good with machines! You know what they say: Necessity is the mother of-"

"Hey Sarge," Donut interrupted. "Can I ask you about something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Donut glanced over at Simmons. "Um, in private?"

"Oh, sure, um I get it," Simmons stammered, placing the head on the ground. "Don't want me around? That's fine, no big deal. I mean you're not talkin' 'bout me, right?" He chuckled nervously then looked at Donut. "Right? You're not talking about me?"

Donut frowned then he led Sarge towards a nearby hill. "Be right back, Simmons."

"Sure you will," Simmons muttered crossly. "That's just what my dad said."

At the top of the hill, Sarge turned to the pink private. "What's up, Donut?"

Donut grimaced shyly and rubbed the tip of his boot in the grass. "Sarge, you ever have… you know, um… _feelings_ and stuff?"

"Feelings? Sure, who doesn't?" Sarge replied. "Who doesn't?"

Donut nodded at this reply. "I just wanna talk to someone about some thoughts I've been having."

"Thoughts? About life and stuff?"

"Yeah, and you always seem so interested in the men, and how we're doing."

"Well, that's my job!" Sarge declared. "Lay it on me. I'm all ears."

Back at the Blue Base, Church made his way over to the tank and climbed onto its cabin. "Sheila, turn on!" he called out. "Hey, uh, activate! Um… oh, FILSS! FILSS, I command you! Start!"

Just then, Tucker came running up to him, with Caboose just behind him, carrying Church's helmet. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm trying to turn on the damn tank," Church replied.

"By yelling at it? Why don't you just use a key?"

Church looked round at this. "You have keys for the tank?"

"Nah, they didn't send 'em," Tucker admitted.

"Thanks," Church sighed sarcastically. "You're a big help."

"Me? I'm not the one yelling at the tank." Tucker then gave a cheeky chuckle. "Hey, the TV is on the fritz too. You wanna come inside and yell at it? Maybe you could insult his mother or something."

Church pulled open the tank's canopy and climbed into the cabin. "I need to get the tank running before Tex shows up."

"_Right,_" Tucker drawled, "the secret agent who also happens to be your girlfriend."

"It's complicated."

"And you think if you have a tank, you're going to impress her."

"No, I need it to defend us in case things get a little… out of hand with her. Like I said, it's-"

"Complicated?" Tucker put in.

"Yeah, complicated," Church said.

"I had a girlfriend once," Caboose spoke up.

"Nobody cares," Tucker retorted.

"I meet her on the Internet."

"Oh man, your girlfriend was a dude."

"Her name was Emilia. She would send me letters all the time."

Tucker let out a whistle. "That sounds high maintenance."

"Letters from my family, letters about stuff I ordered online, even about investment opportunities from other countries."

"What?" Tucker then sighed and slapped a hand to his visor. "Dude, I don't think your girlfriend's name was Emilia, I think it was Email. I'm pretty sure you fell in love with your email."

Caboose then let out a sniff. "She was always there for me, until I forgot our special word."

"You mean your password?"

"She never forgave me," Caboose sobbed.

"Well, I guess you should've made out with her sister, Voicemilia," Tucker joked.

"Nah, she talked too much," Caboose muttered. "And she always blinked at me."

Church, who'd ignored the whole conversation, began hitting buttons on the tank's control panel. "Come on, you stupid tank," he growled. "Just start!"

"Dude, give it up," Tucker called out. "Stop working on the tank. You can't pick up chicks in a tank anyway."

Church looked round at this. "What?"

Tucker then rubbed his chin in thought. "Actually, now that I say it out loud, I guess you _could_ pick up chicks in a tank. Well, I could, you can't. So stop messing with it."

"I **have** to do something," Church sighed, climbing out of the tank.

"You wanna impress your girl? Just listen to _me._" Tucker gave a knowing smile. "School's in session, about to start the master class. Professor Fuck, that's me."

Meanwhile, Simmons waited somewhat impatiently as Sarge listened to what Donut had to say. Grif came up from behind and looked up to the hill. "Are Sarge and Donut still talking up there?"

"Yeah, it's been a few hours," Simmons replied, making his way towards the hill. "Maybe I should see if they want anything to eat."

At that moment, Sarge was starting to regret giving his attention to his team as he listened to Donut droning on and on and on about his mixed-up feelings. "…And don't _even get me started_ on the design of the new armor! The lines are all wrong. And the color pallet, I mean, what is this, _autumn?!_ Am I right? But let's save that for another day."

"Yeah," Sarge sighed, only a quarter interested.

"Well, thanks for the talk, Sarge." With a smile, Donut set off down the hill back to base.

Simmons passed him on the way up and met up with Sarge. "So, uh, what were you guys talkin' about?"

"Lots of things," Sarge muttered. "Feelings mostly."

"That was a long talk."

"Yes it was."

"Seems like a lot of feelings."

"Yes it is."

Simmons beamed at his leader. "Well, if there's anything the troops can confide in, it's you, Sarge."

"Simmons, I'm going to be honest with you," Sarge sighed grudgingly. "I think he might have used all that up."

"But, you still have time for me, right?" Simmons asked eagerly. "I have some thoughts I've been wanting to get off my chest."

"Why don't we just get back to work?"

"Back to work after _our_ heartfelt discussion, right Sir?"

"You know what I'm thinking, Simmons?" Sarge cut in. "Let's just put a pin in that discussion."

Simmons frowned. "A pin?"

"Or a nail. Nails last longer. Or one o' them railroad spikes. Tell you what, let's abandon the pin metaphor altogether. Let's just take your idea, put it in a box, wrap that box in chains then cover the whole thing with cement and throw it in the ocean."

Simmons sighed and bowed his head sadly. "I'll just get back to work."

Sarge nodded. "Now that idea I like!"

* * *

**I like it too, Sarge, but I still feel kinda bad for Simmons.**


	7. Case File 01045

**We're taking a quick trip to the past again to see an old friend.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Case File 01.045

_**THE DOCKING BAY OF THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

_**Freelancer Case File 01.045/Level 2 Confidential [ŒDOCUNET] Mission: FAILURE, All Objectives**_

Agent Maine came running into the loading bay the moment he'd heard that a Pelican was returning. He arrived in time to see it landing and he ran over to the pilot to hear the news. It was all bad. The mission had failed horribly and there were casualties. Agent Wisconsin had been badly injured, but the other Agents in the team, Washington, Arkansas and Connecticut, had all made it unharmed. Maine was partly pleased that his two friends, Wash and Connie, had made it out okay, but he was mostly concerned at what the Director was going to say to them.

Sometime later, Agent Connecticut was sitting in a room that overviewed the briefing room. Her helmet was at her side so she hung her head down so that her short brown hair covered her eyes. Then Agent Washington came from behind her and removed his helmet so he could regard her with his kindly grey-green eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Connie."

"Easy for you to say," Connie scoffed, still staring out the window. "You didn't drop the ball."

"The ball got dropped," Wash corrected. "We were all there, it's everyone's responsibility."

"Dammit," Connie snapped, shaking her head. "Why are you doing that?"

Wash looked puzzled. "What am I doing?"

"Making excuses for me. I'm not making excuses for myself… why are you?"

Wash placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm trying to make you feel better."

"Yeah? _Great._" Connie pushed his hand away. "Hey, why don't you go make Carolina feel better? Go pat Maine on the head. See how that works for you."

"We all make mistakes."

"No! _We_ don't." Connie got to her feet and turned to face Wash. "That's the point! We don't all make mistakes. Some of us very specifically make mistakes, and others don't seem to make any mistakes at all!"

"Connie, come on…"

"That's why they're doing all this!" she yelled, waving a hand at the screen in the briefing room. "These missions, the rankings, they're drawing a line between us, Wash. And you're either on one side of that line, or you're on the other." She sighed and picked up her helmet. "And it's getting pretty goddamn clear which side I'm on."

Wash stepped up to her with a sigh. "No one thinks like that. We're a team."

"I'm not talking about you guys," Connie muttered. "I mean them. _Him._"

"The Director?" Wash gasped. "He's given us everything. He's helping us!"

"Helping us?" Connie gave a short bark of derisive laughter. "Wake up. Wake the fuck up! He's _filtering_ us! This is a selection process, Wash. I don't know for what, but if you're not at the top of that board, you're not worth anything to him."

"You're just overreacting," Wash comforted. "You've always been hard on yourself, Connie."

"Not as hard as they are," Connie retorted, pushing her helmet into Wash's hands. "Not nearly as hard as they're going to be…" She then turned away from him. "And don't call me Connie. It makes me sound like a fucking kid. Call me C.T."

With that, she walked out of the room but then stopped at the door and turned back. "Oh, and that line that I talked about… you better hurry up and figure out what side you're on, Agent Washington, before they figure it out for you."

As she set off down the hall, Wash gave a sigh and turned Connie- no, C.T.'s helmet round. He stared into the glowing yellow eyes and rubbed his hand over the white shock absorbers round its neck. To him, it looked more like a gasmask than the helmet he wore, but then again, all EOD helmets looked like that…

* * *

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A (BLUE BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

Church felt slightly embarrassed as he stood next to Caboose by the side of the lake behind the Blue Base. Then Tucker, aka Professor Fuck, stepped up in front of them. His helmet had been replaced with a professor's cap, he held a thin teacher's pole in one hand and he regarded his teammates through his black-rimmed glasses.

"Alright, class is in session," Tucker said with the authority of a school teacher. "Students line up over here; teacher on this side."

"I'm not doing this," Church muttered.

"Dude, you've got a girl coming over," Tucker cried. "You don't know what to say to her. You need my help. And the first set of lessons is free."

"How are you qualified to teach this stuff?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, no, I'm not kidding. How are you qualified? You talk about girls all the time. I've never seen you with one."

Tucker looked shifty as the ground gave another quick tremor. "Um, I have lots of- just shut up and listen. Stay quiet and hold all your questions until the end. Now, before we start, does anyone have any questions?"

"Uh, yes," Caboose said, raising his hand. "I would like to -"

"Aha!" Tucker cut in, pointing his pole at him. "That was a trick question. You're supposed to hold all questions 'til the end."

"Oh yeah?" Church retorted. "Why didn't you hold you trick question until the end then?"

"The rules don't apply to me," Tucker replied.

"Well then," Caboose muttered sulkily. "Maybe my question was a… magic question too."

"Yeah, abracadabra, you're an idiot," Tucker sighed. "So, we've already learned our first lesson: the rules don't apply to you. Girls like a rebel, someone outside the law."

"Like a criminal?"

"It depends on the crime, but nothing with animals. See, they want someone with a free and independent spirit, something that they can crush into a raw material that can then be molded into what they really want."

"What _do_ they really want?"

"They don't know which is why you have to tell them what they want without actually telling them what to do."

Caboose frowned. "That sounds hard."

"That's why we're doing lessons," Tucker said.

"Should uh, should I be taking notes?"

"Do you even know how to write?"

"Is this another trick question? Can I answer it at the end?"

"Getting bored here," Church muttered.

"Okay then," Tucker said. "Then let's do some role-playing. I'll give you critiques on your approach."

Church looked puzzled. "_Role_-playing?"

"Yeah," Tucker then picked up a blonde wig and handed it to his dumb teammate. "Caboose, you play the girl."

Now Church was shocked. "You want Caboose to be the woman?"

"Dude, it's a lot bigger stretch for you to play a man. Trust me."

"Um, okay." Caboose took off his helmet then placed the wig onto his head. "What should I say?"

"Just say whatever a girl would say."

"Uh, okay." Caboose cleared his throat nervously. "Um, I uh just really want to meet someone nice, um you know, someone who appreciates me for who I am. Not so much because I'm pretty, but because they really want to get to know me because they want to find out what my interests are… then we can spend time exploring the world and sharing all the wonderful things in life that make it wonderful."

Tucker swapped a very puzzled look with Church then he stared at Caboose. "What? Do you know girls at all? Talk about how much you like shoes."

"Yeah, and reality TV shows," Church added.

"Here, Church, you start," Tucker decided. "Just hit on Church. Caboose, act like you like Church."

Caboose rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I've been preparing for this role my whole life."

"Shut up," Tucker said. "Okay, Church, your girlfriend just got to base. You see her and you say…"

Church sighed and turned to Caboose. "Uh, hey… hey there."

"Hello!" Caboose said. "Giggle! Blinking eyelashes… Puppies!"

"Alright, I'm out," Church yelled. "I can't do this."

"Don't be a baby," Tucker scolded. "Caboose, stop making sound effects. You're a girl now, girls can't make sound effects."

Caboose frowned at him. "Quietly angry."

"And stop narrating."

Caboose folded his arms crossly. "Okay, fine."

"There you go," Tucker beamed. "That's it. That's a girl. Okay, Church, hit it." He waved his pole down. "_Action!_"

Church gave a nervous cough. "Uh, hey, uh what are you doing? What's up? Uh, what's up with what you're doing?"

"Smooth," Tucker said, nodding approvingly. "Caboose?"

"Okay, um…" Caboose cleared his throat then spoke in a high voice. "Yes, I was just sitting here thinking about shoes, and celebrities that have only first names."

"Perfect."

"Actually if you want the truth, I feel like I have to say these things to make myself more appealing when I really think that I should just-"

"Stop it," Tucker cut in.

"Okay, sorry," Caboose hissed in his normal voice then in his high voice, "Okay, sorry."

Tucker then turned to his leader. "Church, say something rebellious."

"Uh, okay." Church turned to Caboose. "I think the working class should uprise against the rich people."

"I said rebellious not revolutionary," Tucker sighed.

"Oh, okay," Church murmured. "I drive a fast car over the speed limit, all the time."

Caboose gave a very coy smile. "I will go with you anywhere."

"See?" Tucker cried. "It's easy!"

* * *

**Good grief, women are not **_**that**_** easily impressed.**


	8. Shaking the Foundations

**Our Red Team is about to get a little bit bigger.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Shaking the Foundations

At the Red Base, Grif , Sarge and Donut watched as Simmons put the finishing touches on their new robot. Its armor was dark brown and its head was bowed, its eyes completely black.

"There!" Simmons stood up and took off his helmet to wipe the sweat off his brow. "Man, that safety switch was hard to bolt on, probably should've gotten a bigger one."

"It's not how big the switch is, Simmons," Donut said. "It's how you flip it."

"Donut, shut up!"

"Alright, robot's all done!" Sarge declared. "Time to fire it up! Let's hit the ol' power button. Who wants to do the honors? Grif?"

Grif just shrugged. "Meh."

"Well said. Donut?"

"Sorry, I just clear-coated my nails," Donut replied, holding up his ungloved hands to show. "I'm not chipping one of _these_ babies!"

"Alright… Simmons?"

Simmons looked astounded. "I-it would be an honor, Sir! Um, that is, if you're sure _you_ don't wanna do it!"

"Now that you mention it, it does sound kinda fun!" Sarge cut in. "I always did like pushing things."

"Oh…" Simmons now looked crestfallen. "Okay."

"Hey Sarge," Donut said. "What's this robot gonna do for us anyway?"

"Oh you know, the usual robot stuff," Sarge replied. "Math we don't wanna do…"

"Right, like _that_ exists," Simmons chuckled.

"Menial tasks like maintaining the vehicle…"

"Maintenance is crucial."

"Organization…"

"Hmm, maybe I should make a list of all the robot's duties."

"And basically any task that no one wants to do or is part of anyone's official job description."

"Additional work?" Simmons asked excitedly. "You mean like extra credit? No one told me there was extra credit! What is it? I'll do it!"

"Hey Simmons," Donut said. "It sounds like this robot is going to be doing all the jobs you do!"

Simmons gave a light-hearted chuckle which quickly faded. "Yeah…"

"Well, don't worry," Donut reassured. "I'm sure Sarge will find some other responsibilities for you, right Sarge?"

But Sarge didn't reply. "Sarge?"

"Huh? Oh right," Sarge murmured. "One of the robot's functions is to answer awkward questions that I don't want to. Better turn him on."

He stepped behind the robot and lifted its back armor up. "Here we go. Let me just get this panel off, make some specific noise and drop it on the ground…"

Suddenly the earth gave a violent tremor and Sarge looked up in alarm. "Holy guacamole!"

"AHHHHH, another earthquake!" Simmons screamed in terror and began to run around his team in panic. "Everyone institute emergency plan! Hold on a second while I put on my marshal's vest! Everyone just remain calm! Whatever you do, don't-"

But just then the earthquake stopped as suddenly as it had started.

"-panic," Simmons finished.

"Looks like the earthquake stopped," Donut noted.

"Yeah," Simmons sighed.

"You're just disappointed no one got to use the emergency plan, aren't ya, Simmons?"

"Sorta…"

"Aw, there, there, don't feel bad," Donut comforted, placing a hand on his teammate's shoulder. "No one's read it anyway!"

"Oh, that's a relief," Simmons muttered crossly.

Just then, the robot jerked into life and lifted its head. Bright blue lights switched on in its eyes and then it spoke. "Hola. Me llamo Lopez. Gracias por la activacion de mi."

"Ooh, the robot's on!" Donut cried.

Lopez then bowed down to the Reds. "¿Como estas?"

"Uh, is he speaking Spanish?" Simmons asked.

"Sounds like it," Donut agreed.

"Maybe the quake messed something up when you activated him, Sarge," Simmons assumed. "It could be a polarity issue."

"Actually, I ordered the Espanol speech unit on purpose," Sarge confessed.

"You did?"

"Yeah, I thought if we had a little multiculturalism around here, we could all learn Spanish together! Get closer as a unit."

Donut put an arm around Simmons' shoulders. "Speaking of getting our units closer-"

"Not now, Donut!" Simmons snapped, pushing his teammate away. "That seems inconvenient, Sarge."

"Yeah, it does," Sarge agreed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking! It seems really out of character for me."

Suddenly the ground started trembling again and Lopez's eyes flashed red. "¡Alarma! ¡Alarma! ¡Terremoto! ¡Alarma! ¡Alarma! ¡Terremoto!"

"Hey look, Simmons," Donut shouted over the rumbling. "He's already doing your job!"

"Great," Simmons growled.

Donut just grinned. "Want me to get your vest?"

On the other side of the canyon, the Blue Base rocked violently under the shocks and outside, Tucker looked round in concern. "Whoa, there's another quake!"

"Yep," Church replied impassively.

"You don't seem too worried," Tucker noted, as the earthquake stopped.

"No I'm not, because I know all this isn't real."

"Not real? You mean not real like your fake girlfriend?"

"No, no, no… my _girlfriend_ is real! It's the _world_ that's fake. Well, everything in it."

"EARTHQUAKE!" Caboose screamed, running out of the Base.

"That was ten seconds ago." Church sighed in irritation. "Man, we really need to get your reflexes checked."

"Maybe I was just early for the next one," Caboose fumed. "Now you'll be ready when it happens."

"Oh shut up."

"Meteor," Caboose added.

Tucker got back to their conversation. "So everything in the world is fake, except your girlfriend."

"Right," Church replied.

"Who's in the world."

"Yes."

"Where everything is fake."

"Correct."

"Well," Caboose said. "I am following all of this as well as I follow everything else."

"You see, all this…" Church held out his arms to show the extent of the canyon. "Okay, see, we're just inside a memory unit, which is sitting in a snow bank somewhere in the world, the real world."

Tucker frowned. "A snow bank?"

"Right, and that memory unit is _dying_, so we're feeling all these, like, you know… little quakes and stuff."

"If we're on a snow bank, why isn't it cold?"

"I don't know!" Church yelled. "I-it-it doesn't work like that! It's like… being inside of a snow globe."

"Yeah, but a snow globe has snow in it," Tucker argued.

"I thought it was a globe made of snow," Caboose added.

"You're not getting it," Church groaned. "Okay, try to think of this as, like a… it's like a diorama."

"Ah yes, a cafeteria for dinosaurs," Caboose said.

"Shut up, Caboose!"

"Typhoon."

"So this memory snow bank thing," Tucker said, pondering over Church's words. "It's just sitting there and we're inside it, doing all this stuff. Why?"

"I don't know," Church muttered. "I guess it's so I can, you know, figure out about Tex and… what I'm supposed to do. And if I can't figure it out, well then I just need to… move on to the _next_ memory unit, I guess."

"Riiight," Tucker drawled. "And that's by finding those Freelancer guys you talked about before."

"Exactly."

"And going on some _big_ adventure with them and finding the snow memory."

"**Memory unit**," Church corrected.

"Whatever. And then going into it?"

"Yes."

"Even though we're already inside it."

"And so on, and so forth."

"And so on, and so on, until what happens?"

"I don't know!" Church snapped. "If I knew that, I could stop already!"

"And we have to do all that, before the memory unit laying in the snow dies, and we're all crushed by falling rocks." Right on cue, a rock broke off from the canyon wall and crashed to the ground twenty feet behind Tucker. "Good timing."

"Yeah it was," Church agreed grimly.

"Well, if only there had been some type of warning system in place," Caboose muttered.

"Okay," Tucker said. "I think it all makes sense now."

"Oh, good," Church sighed. "I'm glad."

"Dude, that was a fucking joke," Tucker retorted. "I have no clue what's up!"

"I don't know," Church said. "It doesn't seem that hard to me, man."

"I know one way to check." Tucker turned to his other teammate. "Hey Caboose, explain what's going on. Recap for us!"

"We are going to eat lunch with dinosaurs," Caboose said.

"Yep, perfect sense," Tucker beamed.

"I' m going to eat a giant egg!" Caboose cried, before Church punched him in the face.

* * *

**For God's sake, Caboose, this is Red vs. Blue, not the Flintstones. Yabba-dabba-doofus.**


	9. Captive Audience

**This episode offers a quick reminder, just in case some people may have forgotten or not bothered to read any of my earlier stories.**

* * *

Chapter 9: Captive Audience

At the Red Base, Sarge led Lopez over to the Warthog to let his new creation start work when another earthquake hit the canyon. Lopez looked round in concern. "Estos terremotos parecen estar a peornado." (These earthquakes seem to be getting worse.)

"Good point, Lopez," Sarge replied. "I don't understand what you said, but you presented it in such a confident manner that it must be right."

On the roof of the Base, Grif gave a pleasant smile. "Man, that new robot really seems to be fitting in around here."

"Yeah, I noticed," Simmons growled softly.

"He's pretty popular."

"_Awesome._"

"Yeah," Donut chipped in. "Even though no one understands him, people seem to really want to get past the rough robotic exterior and get to know the _inner_ Lopez."

"Sooo happy for him," Simmons grunted.

"Me too," Donut said then he frowned. "Wait, was that sarcastic?"

"Yeah, dude," Grif agreed. "I have to admit, that was off the charts even for _my_ sarcastic meter."

Below them, Lopez did a quick scan of the canyon then turned to Sarge. "He notado un patrón en la activada sísmica. Se necesita más estudio." (I have noticed a pattern in the seismic activity. It needs further study.)

But Sarge just burst out laughing. "Oh, good one, Lopez!" he chortled, smacking his robot on the back. "Man, you are a riot!"

"No, usted no me entiende," Lopez yelled. (No, you don't understand me.)

On the roof, Grif let out a hearty chuckle. "Man, all that, and the guy's a comedian. God, I wish my sidekick could be funny like that. What's your problem, Simmons?"

"What?" Simmons cried. "You don't even know what he said! How could it be funny?"

"Whatever," Grif sighed. "I guess you just had to be there."

"_I was right here!_"

Lopez scowled at Sarge. "Tengo acceso a los siguientos equipos: Sismógrafo, Sismógrafo Avanzada…" (Stop laughing. I need access to the following equipment: Seismograph, Advanced Seismograph…)

"Alright, nice chattin' with you, Lopez," Sarge chuckled, turning to head into the Base. "Now enough jokes, get back to work polishin' stuff. The stuff's not gonna polish itself, you know."

"Aquí todo el mundo está en peligro," Lopez called out. "Tiennes que escuchar me." (Everyone here is in danger. You need to listen to me.)

"Well, okay, one last joke," Sarge giggled. "But that was it. Now seriously, back to work."

Lopez just gave an angry growl.

Donut gave a short bark of laughter. "I just got that one too! Boy, he really makes you think."

"Yeah," Grif said. "It's like he's saying what we're all thinking, but in Spanish."

"You guys are idiots!" Simmons snapped. "I'll show you who's likable and funny, and who people like." And with that, he stormed off down the ramp.

"Huh, what's wrong with Simmons?" Donut asked.

"Huh? Oh I don't care," Grif muttered. "Hey Donut, let's go hang out with Lopez!"

"Great idea!" Donut cried.

The two Red privates ran off down the ramp, passing Simmons who was hiding in the shadows of the Base. "I'll show them," he snarled, running off towards the caves. "Yeah, I'll show them good."

At the Blue Base, Church was continuing his rather convoluted explanations to his team.

"Okay, okay," he tried to think of what he should say. "It's like when a computer tries to solve a problem. Do you know what recursion is?"

"Yeah, I love that movie," Caboose replied.

"No, not Inception, it's like…" Church paused to think of the words. "It's like a thing where a computer tries a number of different iterations to solve a problem then when it gets to the end, it returns all those solutions back up the line to the _first_ iteration and then it has its solution. Does that make sense?"

Tucker was silent for a moment. "You're saying you're a computer."

"No, no, no, no- Actually, well yes," Church admitted. "Yeah, sort of, I'm actually- I am a computer- kind of. I'm a computer program."

"But your foot was bleeding," Tucker recalled.

"And your breath kind of stinks," Caboose added, earning a glare from Church. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything before, but since we're all telling the truth about each other-"

"Caboose, you're an idiot," Tucker interrupted.

"Well, I didn't realize how much words could hurt until it was my turn." Caboose folded his arms and turned away. "I don't think I want to play this honesty game anymore."

Church let out an exasperated sigh. "No, I'm a real person in _here,_ because this is all constructed by memories of the person that I'm based on, same as me. I'm all the memories of that guy."

"Who is that?" Tucker asked.

"It's another program called Alpha, who was kind of a dick. And he was based on a guy called the Director, who was also kind of a dick."

"Well, I can see you're continuing a grand tradition. It's quite a lineage."

"Yeah, I'm real proud," Church muttered sarcastically.

"I'm from the moon," Caboose chipped in.

"Nobody cares," Church and Tucker yelled in unison.

"You're all just jealous," Caboose scowled.

Tucker got back on topic. "And this girl who's coming is that original guy's girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I think," Church replied. "I don't remember exactly."

"I thought you were that guy's memory!"

"No, I'm the _other_ guy's memory, the middle one."

"Did _he_ have a girlfriend?" Caboose asked.

"No," Church said. "Wait, maybe."

"Dude, I don't know how any of you got any girlfriends, spouting all this sci-fi bullshit," Tucker scoffed. "You guys ever talk about football, for God's sake?"

"Look," Church snapped. "I just know I'm supposed to meet this girl and I'm supposed to fall in love."

"Uh-huh," Caboose nodded. "And then what happens?"

"I don't know! W-we do whatever people do when they fall in love."

"I'm asking you a specific question. You should give me a specific answer."

Church glared at his teammate. "Are you taking notes?"

"No," Caboose muttered, hiding the pen and notepad behind his back. "Maybe."

"My job is to solve this problem or pass it along," Church explained with finality. "That's it."

"So," Tucker thought it over. "You follow this girl down through the levels of the memory iterations and you basically try to figure out how to make things work, even though she doesn't like you?"

"She likes me," Church argued. "She's just, you know-"

"Mean," Caboose put in.

"Yeah, thanks Caboose. She's mean."

"Yeah, that was an easy guess, you know, because all girls are pretty much mean."

Tucker just shook his head in disturbed dismay. "Can I just say? This might be _the_ creepiest stalker scenario I've ever heard. And I've made a few myself."

"What?!" Church cried.

"You chase a dead girl through a memory, and every time she escapes you, you either follow her down to the next set of memories or resurrect her in some way, only to do it all over again!"

"That's not stalker-ish, that's… romantic."

"You know what the difference between stalking and romance is? Romance happens in movies. In real life, it's called stalking."

"Well, maybe all of this is happening inside of a movie," Caboose decided.

"Oh please, who the fuck would watch that movie? All we ever do is stand around and talk." Tucker then became aware of a loud hissing noise and looked down to see a small black ball right at their feet. "Hey, you dropped your grenade."

"That's not mine," Church said. "Caboose, pick that up."

"I'm not allowed to carry grenades, remember?" Caboose replied. "Because of that one exploding time which was no one's fault."

"Well, I didn't drop it," Church said. "Tucker, count yours."

"I have a readout in my helmet, dummy," Tucker retorted, tapping the side of his visor. "I don't need to count."

"Oh right," Church conceded. "Well, it _has_ to be somebody's."

The Blues stared at the grenade for a few moments before slowly looking up to swap worried looks.

"Fuck, somebody threw a grenade at us, didn't they?" Tucker hissed.

"Yeah," Church replied slowly. "We probably should have figured that out sooner, right?"

KABOOOOOMMMM! The grenade went off with a loud noise and a blinding flash of light, and the Blues were thrown backwards by the blast…

* * *

_**ON BOARD THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

North stood in the hallway and glanced out the window at the starry blackness of space. No matter how many times he'd seen it, the depths of the universe never ceased to amaze him. As a child, he and his sister South would sit in the backyard of their home and stare up at all the stars in the night sky, wondering what new worlds awaited them out in the cosmos.

North gave a little sigh at the memory. Those were the good old days, before the Great Wars came, before the Covenant came and destroyed everything, took their homes and their families. He and South lost their parents in the first wave, but now they were on Project Freelancer and they would get their chance at revenge…

At that moment, a Spartan in grey armor with yellow highlights stepped out of a room and made his way down the hallways. As he passed the window, North ran to catch up with him. "Hey, Wash, wait up! Listen, I heard you had a meeting with Internals."

"Oh, you did?" Washington asked.

"Yeah, do you mind if I ask what it was about?"

"I'm not really supposed to talk about that."

"Help me out here," North pleaded. "I'm still getting heat about using equipment in the field."

Wash stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at North. "You did? Really? Without a pipeline back to the Command server?"

"I had to improvise. We had a problem."

"Let me guess, are you related to the problem?"

"Okay, now _I_ don't want to talk about it," North sighed, setting off again.

"Equipment in the field," Wash muttered. "Y'know, don't forget what happened to Utah during training."

"Don't remind me," North said, recalling that day

Some weeks ago, the Freelancers had taken special training courses so they could understand how their armor enhancements worked in combat. North, South and another Freelancer named Utah had chosen the Domed Energy Shield enhancement for their course. North and South had no trouble getting their shields working, but when Utah tried it, the shield only grew big enough to cover his head and he almost suffocated. Luckily the medics were able to shut it down before it was too late.

"You're lucky it didn't kill you," Wash said, bringing North back to the present.

"If I was lucky, I wouldn't have needed to use it at all," North scoffed.

"Well, you can relax. Internals didn't ask about you." While Wash was talking, several soldiers ran past them in a hurry. "It was something else. Lots of questions about the Insurrection and transmissions coming out of our- Oof!" he suddenly gasped as a soldier bumped into him.

"Sorry sir," the soldier said, dashing after his friends.

Wash then realized that other soldiers, engineers and medics were running down the hall. "Hey, what's going on?" He ran forward until he could grab the soldier who'd bumped into him. "Soldier, where is everyone running?"

"New agent squaring off against Maine, Wyoming and York on the training room floor," the soldier explained. "We're going to watch!" He pulled out of Wash's grasp and ran off down the hall. "Hey guys, wait up!"

North swapped an amazed look with Wash. "Three on one?"

"I gotta see this," Wash cried.

"Right behind you," North called as they ran off down the hall.

In the training room, three soldiers, colored white, tan and white with orange highlights, each grabbed a pugil stick and prepared themselves for combat.

"Five, four, three, two, one, Round begin," FILSS announced over the speakers.

With that, the three soldiers charged straight into battle… only to get knocked back by their black-armored opponent…

* * *

**Alright, Tex is back! Well, she's in the past at the moment, but she will make her appearance in the present soon, but at the moment she's… Oh, you know what I mean.**


	10. Introductions

**Get ready for one of the most action-packed sequences in this season!**

* * *

Chapter 10: Introductions

North stood in the hallway and glanced out the window at the starry blackness of space. No matter how many times he'd seen it, the depths of the universe never ceased to amaze him. As a child, he and his sister South would sit in the backyard of their home and stare up at all the stars in the night sky, wondering what new worlds awaited them out in the cosmos.

North gave a little sigh at the memory. Those were the good old days, before the Great Wars came, before the Covenant came and destroyed everything, took their homes and their families. He and South lost their parents in the first wave, but now they were on Project Freelancer and they would get their chance at revenge…

At that moment, a Spartan in grey armor with yellow highlights stepped out of a room and made his way down the hallways. As he passed the window, North ran to catch up with him. "Hey, Wash, wait up! Listen, I heard you had a meeting with Internals."

"Oh, you did?" Washington asked.

"Yeah, do you mind if I ask what it was about?"

"I'm not really supposed to talk about that."

"Help me out here," North pleaded. "I'm still getting heat about using equipment in the field."

Wash stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at North. "You did? Really? Without a pipeline back to the Command server?"

"I had to improvise. We had a problem."

"Let me guess, are you related to the problem?"

"Okay, now _I_ don't want to talk about it," North sighed, setting off again.

"Equipment in the field," Wash muttered. "You know, don't forget what happened to Utah during training."

"Don't remind me," North said, recalling that day

Some weeks ago, the Freelancers had taken special training courses so they could understand how their armor enhancements worked in combat. North, South and another Freelancer named Utah had chosen the Domed Energy Shield enhancement for their course. North and South had no trouble getting their shields working, but when Utah tried it, the shield only grew big enough to cover his head and he almost suffocated. Luckily the medics were able to shut it down before it was too late.

"You're lucky it didn't kill you," Wash said, bringing North back to the present.

"If I was lucky, I wouldn't have needed to use it at all," North scoffed.

"Well, you can relax. Internals didn't ask about you." While Wash was talking, several soldiers ran past them in a hurry. "It was something else. Lots of questions about the Insurrection and transmissions coming out of our- Oof!" he suddenly gasped as a soldier bumped into him.

"Sorry sir," the soldier said, dashing after his friends.

Wash then realized that other soldiers, engineers and medics were running down the hall. "Hey, what's going on?" He ran forward until he could grab the soldier who'd bumped into him. "Soldier, where is everyone running?"

"New agent squaring off against Maine, Wyoming and York on the training room floor," the soldier explained. "We're going to watch!" He pulled out of Wash's grasp and ran off down the hall. "Hey guys, wait up!"

North swapped an amazed look with Wash. "Three on one?"

"I gotta see this," Wash cried.

"Right behind you," North called as they ran off down the hall.

They arrived at the observation deck just minutes before the first round began. North joined his sister by the window and Wash took a position between C.T. and another Freelancer wearing blue ODST armor.

Wash looked through the window to see the three opponents as they each grabbed a pugil stick. He quickly recognized Maine because he was the only one wearing an EVA helmet, the kind with the domed visor. Wyoming was the one in the off-white armor and York was noticeable in his tan armor with silver highlights.

"Five, four, three, two, one, round begin," FILSS announced over the speakers.

At once, the three agents charged into the training room and raised their sticks up but their opponent, who was wearing black armor, sent them flying back with one swing.

In the deck, the door slid open and Carolina came in. "What's going on down there?" she demanded "There's no training session on the schedule."

"It's impromptu," South answered.

Carolina went up to the window and spotted the black-armored figure. "Who the hell is that?"

"Some new recruit," South said with a shrug.

Down in the training room, York, Maine and Wyoming got their feet and ran right at their opponent, but again they were swatted back like flies.

Wash let out an admiring whistle. "Wow, he sure doesn't move like he's a recruit."

South turned and glared at him in annoyance. "Why do you assume it's a guy? _She_'s a girl."

"Oh," Wash flustered. "I… I didn't really mean that he- I mean it- Uh, duh, I mean _her_, I-"

South just gave a little chuckle. "Right."

"Sorry."

"Just shut up."

"Both of you, can it," Carolina snapped.

"Sounds like someone is a little concerned about their position," South retorted.

"Hey South, pay attention," Carolina countered. "You might actually learn something if you stop running your mouth for a minute."

"Ooh, snap," the blue Freelancer muttered.

Down below, the new agent had Wyoming in a stranglehold with her stick on her back as York and Maine struggled to their feet. York held his staff out like a katana, ready to strike, and Maine raised his above his head. But then in one quick movement, the agent released her grip on Wyoming and smacked the others away like a golfer would strike a ball for a hole-in-one.

Wyoming leapt to his feet again and swung out at her, but she ducked and then battered him about before knocking him aside. York ran forward to attack but she blocked his blows then bashed him away. Maine then joined the fray but he too was quickly overwhelmed as she pounded mercilessly on his armor before bashing him so hard her staff actually broke in two. Then she turned and walked away, tossing her broken stick aside.

"Round one over," FILSS announced, as Maine staggered to his feet, stumbled around for a bit and then promptly fell down again. "Pugil stick training complete. Point awarded to Texas. The current score is: Team 1: Zero. Texas: 1."

Wash raised an eyebrow. "Texas, huh?"

"I thought that name was reserved," Carolina muttered.

"Nice moves."

"It could be luck," Carolina replied, pressing her hands on the glass. "We'll see."

After a five minute reprieve for the agents to recuperate, they went back onto the training room floor.

"Beginning hand-to-hand combat," FILSS announced. "Round Two in five, four, three, two, one. Round begin."

The four agents raised their fist and got into fighting stances, York, Maine and Wyoming each daring Texas to make the first move.

"Okay guys," York hissed to his team. "This one should be easy, so let's just play it by the book. Maine, how about you flank left and then-"

But Maine just charged forward and was knocked down with a single punch.

"Or you could just charge in and get immobilized first," York sighed. "Okay, Wyoming, let's stick together and-"

Wyoming ignored him and ran towards Texas but went down the same way.

"What's the story?" York yelled, turning to his team. "Am I the only one on this team that knows how to talk?"

"I don't think talking is your only problem," a cold female voice said behind him.

York whirled round to find Texas standing right in front of him. "Oh no!" He swung his fist out, but Texas dodged it then punched him in the gut, sending him flying.

As Wyoming tried to get up, she kicked him in the face and knocked him down. She then went into a one-on-one fistfight with Maine, blocking every blow. Then as Maine swung for her head, she grabbed his arm, swung him over her head then kicked him into Wyoming, sending them sprawling to the ground. York then charged forward and threw some punches too, but again Texas was too quick for him. She blocked each punch made then she punched him in the gut, elbowed him in the face and finished off by punching him to the ground.

"Wow!" Wash gasped.

"Okay, _that_ was pretty impressive," North agreed.

Carolina just watched the fight with a grim expression.

Down below, York staggered to his feet and turned to Maine and Wyoming. "Okay, guys, that obviously didn't work so well," he told them. "How about this time we stay in formation and instead of like-"

But Wyoming and Maine charged at Texas again.

"_Dammit!_" York sighed as he ran after his team. "I can't believe I actually volunteered for this crap."

Maine swung his fist out at Texas, but she easily blocked it and kicked him back then she punched Wyoming back. York then threw his fists right at her, but she deflected each blow before smashing him aside. Maine tried to take her from behind, but she dropped to her knees and kicked his feet out from under him.

York charged in to take her on, but she simply rolled onto her back and kicked him in the chin. Then she jumped to her feet and punched Maine away. Wyoming swung his fist out at her, but she rolled over his back and punched him down before giving York a roundhouse kick and then punching Maine down again.

Then York and Wyoming charged at her and went on the offensive but Texas easily blocked their hits and knocked them aside. Then all three Agents surrounded her and attacked her all at once. But Texas was too quick for them, ducking and dodging the oncoming blows. Then she punched York in the stomach before ducking a blow from Maine, making him hit Wyoming instead before she took them both out and then kicked York to the ground.

"Round over," FILSS announced. "Point Texas. Hand-to-hand combat complete."

The three agents staggered to their feet and went off to the side to recover.

"Now resetting the floor for Lockdown Paint Scenario."

As pillars began to rise up from the floor, the overlooking Freelancers gave a collective groan.

"Ugh, I hate that paint," Wash moaned.

"Tell me about it," South agreed. "It stings like a bitch."

"And it turns your armor hard as a rock," North added.

"I wouldn't know," Carolina said casually, making the others turn to stare at her. "It's not bad if you don't let it hit you."

"Thanks," Wash muttered sarcastically. "I'll try to remember that."

In the training arena, York, Maine and Wyoming went over to a table and each picked up a specially modified pistol which they loaded with paintball rounds. York glanced at the rounds for a moment. They may look like tiny pink balls, but he knew that if he got hit by one of those, the paint would harden and cause his armor to freeze up almost instantly, rendering him immobile. He just hoped the others would listen to him this time.

"Round three, in five, four, three, two, one! Round begin!"

At once, the agents ran for the cover of the nearest pillars.

"Maine," York hissed. "Look, I'm gonna move left, you go-"

But Maine just charged out into the field and Texas opened fire.

"Or you could just run out and do whatever you want and then get killed," York muttered sarcastically. "Ready, break. Good job, everybody."

At that moment, Maine went flying back, his armor covered in big pink splatters. York turned to consult Wyoming only to see that his helmet had been hit with paint too. "Oh man, this is gonna be a long day…"

He then ran out into the field and began to hunt for Texas. But every time he got close to her hiding place, she'd duck out across the room.

After a solid two minutes of cat and mouse, York cornered her by a pillar but she quickly knocked his gun away and kneed him in the crotch before raising her gun and shooting him in the face.

For the next few rounds, the results were pretty much the same; Wyoming and Maine would rush headlong into the fray, ignoring York's instructions, and Texas would outmatch them at every turn, gaining a point each time.

In round Five, York peeked out from behind a pillar to see his frozen team. "Hey Wyoming," he hissed. "Where is he? Can you see him?"

He then felt a gun behind his head and he gulped. "Uh, you know what? Never mind man, I think I've figured it out."

Then Texas fired and all he could see was pink.

By round Seven, the agents were starting to show signs of proper cooperation as they each hid behind a pillar and prepared a bold plan. Then Wyoming and Maine ran around the side of their pillars while York leapt over his but still Texas outmatched them all.

In round Eight, the three agents made their way across the room in a tight group, hoping to catch Texas out. But then Texas surprised them all by leaping off the top of a pillar and shooting Maine in the wrist. Wyoming and York raised their guns and fired, but she dodged the shots and then fired back, hitting Wyoming in the thigh and knocking him down. She then turned and fired at York, but he quickly dived behind a pillar.

Maine then swung out at her, but she ducked aside then ran up a pillar's side, jumped off and fired a shot on Maine's other wrist before hiding behind another pillar to avoid getting hit. Maine took this moment to swing out another punch, but again she dodged it and then knocked his gun high into the air before catching it and shooting Maine in the face, taking him out.

York then opened fired on her but she ducked and then kicked the motionless Maine out at him. York quickly rolled over his teammate and charged towards Texas. The two then got into a close combat tussle before York knocked Texas' gun out of her hand. But before he could act, she kicked her gun at his face then grabbed his arm and pulled it behind him in an arm lock. York raised his gun to fire, but she simply grabbed it, pointed it at his crotch and forced him to shoot himself, before flinging his frozen form across the arena. As she turned to leave the arena, she spotted Wyoming hiding behind a pillar and shot him in the face, ending the round.

After five minutes of rest so they could get the paint off their armor, the Agents prepared themselves for the next round.

"After eight rounds, the score is now 0-8," FILSS announced. "Advantage: Texas."

"Yeah, 'advantage' is the right word, FILSS," York muttered as he reloaded his pistol.

He looked to the others for confirmation but they weren't at the table. He turned round and just spotted Wyoming handing Maine a cartridge. "Hey, what the hell are you guys doing?"

"Round Nine begins in five, four, three, two, one. Round Nine, begin!"

With that, Wyoming and Maine raised their guns at Texas and fired… but instead of paint splattering on the pillars, the pillars were shattered by the live rounds of ammunition as Texas ran behind them to avoid getting hit.

In the observation deck, Wash gasped in horror. "What? Are they using live rounds on the training floor?"

"Looks like it," South replied.

"That's against protocol!" Wash cried. "They're gonna kill her!"

"Probably," C.T. replied.

"Someone should get the Director!"

"The Director?" C.T. scoffed. "Who do you think gave them the ammo?"

"Watch your mouth, C.T.," Carolina snapped.

In the training arena, York placed a hand on Wyoming's arm. "Back off, man. What the-"

But Wyoming shrugged him off and charged forward with Maine.

"Enough of this," York yelled, running round the other side.

Wyoming managed to draw Texas out and fired at her as she retreated for cover. Then York came up from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. "Look out!"

Texas whirled round and pointed his gun at him.

"Hey," York cried, raising his hands. "I'm trying to help."

"I don't need your help!" Texas snapped. "_Never_ abandon your team!"

On the other side of the arena, Wyoming tossed a grenade over to Maine then he ran over the top of the pillar and fired. Texas ducked aside and kicked York away. As Wyoming pounced from above, she grabbed his arm and tossed him over. Maine then swung a punch out at her, but she blocked it then kicked him back. As he swung out again, Texas punched him and then fired at his hand, sticking it to the pillar.

Wyoming got to his feet and fired a shot, hitting Texas on the shoulder and causing her armor to spark blue. She then charged forward and started beating Wyoming up, knocking him to the ground. York ran up and placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to stop her. It was a bad move as she then turned and started beating him up.

As Wyoming staggered to his feet, Texas flung York aside and then fired at the white Freelancer, splattering him with paint. He came up against a pillar and started to fall, but she then grabbed his head and jammed it right into the pillar.

Texas then turned her attention on York as he got to his feet. But behind her, Maine pulled his hand free with an angry growl and then charged forward, ramming into the pillar Wyoming was stuck on and sending the top half flying. Texas ducked to evade the rock, but the debris smashed into York, knocking him down.

Texas then raised hers and York's gun and fired at Maine, covering his upper body in paint then she kicked him back. But just as he felt his armor hardening, Maine grabbed the grenade, pulled the pin and then tossed it towards Texas. She ducked to avoid it and the grenade rolled towards the dazed York.

"Hey!" she yelled.

As her armor sparked blue again, she quickly raised her gun and fired at York, covering him with paint just before the grenade went off. KABOOOMMM!

York was thrown backwards by the blast and he hit one of the pillars. Though his ears were ringing from the explosion, he could hear muffled voices from all around. Then FILSS made an announcement. "Medical team on route. Please remain calm."

Slowly York raised his head and looked round. His right eye could see the other Freelancers running to his aid, but his left eye was covered in blood and fading fast. Then Carolina knelt down next to him. "York? York!"

He tried to speak but only a groan came out of his lips before everything went black…

* * *

**And that's how York ended up with one bad eye.**


	11. Lifting the Veil

**We'll be returning to the Blood Gulch madness after this.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Lifting the Veil

In the observation deck, the gathered Freelancers watched as Maine pulled his hand free with an angry growl and then charged forward, ramming into the pillar Wyoming was stuck on and sending the top half flying. Texas ducked to evade the rock, but the debris smashed into York, knocking him down.

Texas then raised hers and York's gun and fired at Maine, covering his upper body in paint then she kicked him back. But just as he felt his armor hardening, Maine grabbed the grenade, pulled the pin and then tossed it towards Texas. She ducked to avoid it and the grenade rolled towards the dazed York.

"Hey!" she yelled.

As her armor sparked blue, she quickly raised her gun and fired at York, covering him with paint just before - KABOOOMMM! The grenade went off in a huge explosion and York was sent flying.

"Shit!" North gasped.

"Dammit, those maniacs!" Washington yelled, slamming his hand onto the sill.

"What the fuck are they doing?" North cried.

Carolina quickly got on the intercom. "FILSS, we need a medical team to the training room, stat!"

"Medical team on route," FILSS announced. "Please remain calm."

Carolina then ran after Wash, North and South as they hurried onto the training room floor.

As Wash went to check on Maine and Wyoming, Carolina knelt down by York and lifted him up. She noticed that his visor had multiple cracks and there was actually a hole on the left side. "York? York!"

York just gave a weakened groan before blacking out. Carolina then turned to the medical team who had just arrived. "Get over here, now!" She then patted her fellow Agent's shoulders. "Come on, York. Hang in there."

Wash stood back as some of the medics went to help Texas, Maine and Wyoming and rejoined the others. "Is he gonna be okay?"

South just sighed and bowed her head. "I can't believe she did that to him, shot his armor, and sacrificed him."

"Lockdown _hardens_ the armor," Wash reminded him. "She probably saved his life."

"Quick thinking," North commented.

"Yeah, really quick," Carolina muttered, looking over at Texas.

Behind them, the medics lifted Wyoming onto a stretcher then one tried to help Maine to his feet but the Freelancer pushed him away with a growl. "Get off me!"

Just then the doors slid open and the Director strode into the room, followed closely by the Counselor. "Everyone, stand down now!"

At once, the Freelancers still standing jumped to attention.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves!" the Director berated, walking along the line. "I expected an act as a team!"

"They used live ammunition on the floor, Sir," Wash argued. "That's against regulation."

The Director rounded on him and stared him down. "Do you think our enemies will care about regulations on the battlefield, Agent Washington?!" he roared.

Wash cringed inside his armor. "So, y-you're not punishing them?"

"Ingenuity and adaptability are _admirable_ traits," the Director replied. "You should all learn something from this. Dismissed."

As the Director and Counselor left the room, C.T. came up from behind them. "Yeah," she smirked. "You should learn something alright."

Wash let out a sigh and his shoulder sagged in humility. "I can't believe this."

"Don't forget to check your place on that list, Wash," C.T. goaded.

With that, the Freelancers all left the arena but Carolina stood back and watched as a group of mysterious black-suited men helped Texas to her feet.

"Don't touch me," Texas snapped. "Take me back to the Director."

As the black-suited men escorted her away, Texas' armor started to spark blue again and Carolina noted it with narrowed eyes. "Interesting…"

* * *

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A (BLUE BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

KABOOOOMMMM!

"AHHH!" Church screamed as he was thrown back by the grenade's explosion. His ears were ringing from the blast and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was white. "What the hell was that?" he cried in a voice that sounded muffled. "I can't see anything! Tucker, where are you? Caboose, are you dead? I hope so!"

Then his hearing returned and he heard Tucker crying out. "Aaah, what was that?"

"I think it was a flashbang," Church replied, stumbling to his feet. "I can't see!"

"WHAT?" Caboose shouted.

"Well, it's a good name," Tucker yelled, "because it definitely went flash and bang!"

"WHAT?" Caboose shouted again.

Church then gasped in horror. "Oh my God, are we under attack? Is it the Reds?"

"I don't know," Tucker cried. "I can't see anything either! My mother always said I would go blind, but for a totally different reason!"

"**WHAT?**"

"Caboose, stop saying 'what'," Church yelled. "You can't hear."

"Can of beer? But this is not the time!"

"_You're deaf!_"

"Oh no! I had so much to live for!"

"No, you didn't," Tucker snapped.

Then Church suddenly felt something bumping into him and he jumped back in fright.

"What was that?" Tucker yelped. "Something just hit me!"

"Something just hit me too!" Church cried, fumbling for his sniper rifle.

"Is it another grenade?"

"We're under attack!" Church panicked. "Open fire!"

With that, the Blues raised their guns and fired into the air.

"YAHHH, get some!" Tucker bellowed. "Take that, fuckers!"

Unknown to them, a black-armored figure stood on a nearby hill and watched as the Blues started running around like headless chickens, firing into the air. She then sighed and shook her head, jostling the ring that hung from a chain round her neck. "What a bunch of idiots…" she muttered, her point being proven moments later when the Blues crashed into each other and slumped to the ground.

Meanwhile, at the Red Base, another earthquake hit the canyon and Lopez looked up from his work in concern. "Que la gente imperiar dejar que me investigue este formueno sísmico." (You people should let me investigate this seismic phenomenon.)

"Yeah, okay buddy, whatever you say," Grif muttered. "Hey, you missed a spot."

Lopez sighed and rolled his mechanical eyes as he went back to polishing the Warthog. "Por lo menos todos vamos a morir con un vehículo limpio." (At least we'll all die with a clean vehicle.)

"Heh, you said it," Grif chuckled. "Now come on, chop, chop. Back to work, buddy. Let's hear less talk I don't understand and see more work I don't want to do."

Just then Sarge came up from behind. "How's it goin' out here?"

"Great," Grif replied. "The jeep has never _been_ so clean."

"That's because you're not the one cleaning it."

"Good point," Grif admitted. "You know Sarge, all this time, the laziness in me has been really under-utilized. I never reached my full potential. I just realized I should be in management!"

"You do seem like a natural."

"It's the best job ever! You just tell people what to do, and they do it. And if you don't have anything for them to do, you just tell them to do something they did before but do it better this time. I've got it all figured out."

"How 'bout you get busy helping with that jeep then?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Grif muttered. "I'm on break."

Lopez finished his work on the jeep and was about to creep away from Sarge and Grif when the radio in his helmet switched on. "Come in, Lopez," a voice called out. "Lopez, come in. This is a secure channel."

Lopez got on his com-link. "Le leí." (I read you.)

"This is Flying Eagle," the voice replied. "I have a secret mission for you."

Lopez frowned. "Vuelo del águila?" (Flying Eagle?)

"Actually, it's Simmons," the voice admitted. "We're using codenames on this mission, Lopez, because it's **Top Secret.**"

"Por qué no puedo obtener un nombre on clase?" (Why don't I get a codename then?)

"I need you to come to the cave, and investigate something. It's **top secret.** Don't tell Sarge, or Grif, or Donut, or anyone else I didn't mention."

"Usted podria tenir solo dijo no le digas a mari." (You could have just said 'don't tell anyone', that would've been much faster.)

"_Okay,_" Simmons hissed. "See you in the cave. Come alone and unarmed. You could also come in with your eyes closed if you want… for secrets."

"Esto parece sospechoso," Lopez muttered. "Tanbien mis ojos se apagada." (This seems suspicious. Also my eyes don't close. They turn off.)

"Yes, it _is_ an honor to be selected," Simmons replied. "You are right. Flying Eagle out." And the radio went dead.

"Por qué me envió a esta unidad?" Lopez sighed as he set off for the cave. (Why was I shipped to this unit?)

Inside the cave, Simmons ran some jump leads down into a large pool of water then coupled the other end onto a large car battery. Then he heard Lopez calling out. "Vuelo del águila? Está aquí?" (Flying Eagle? Are you in there?)

"Down here, Lopez!" Simmons grabbed the battery and ran up onto a small ledge. "This is the perfect plan," he chuckled to himself. "Lopez will walk through the water, which I have electrified using A) this battery and B) my incredible knowledge of how batteries work. The resulting shock will short him out and all the guys will see that I'm the funny, smart one who's good at math and not having emotions. They'll see!"

"Ola," Lopez called out from the water's edge. (Hello.)

"Oh, hi Lopez," Simmons replied innocently. "I was just down here investigating our mission. Heeey, why don't you come over here, through that big puddle?"

"No. Le he oído decir que electrifada que," Lopez retorted, folding his arms. "Nos tengo me idea porqué los humanos necesitan para hoblar vos alta cuando piensan." (No, I heard you say that you electrified it. I have no idea why humans need to speak out loud when they think.)

"Come on," Simmons persuaded. "Over here."

"No. Usted está tratando de daños." (No, you are trying to damage me.)

"Seriously, this way. Just walk into that puddle. I mean the regular puddle… the one that's not, you know…" Simmons broke off with a sigh. "You know what, forget I mentioned the puddle. No puddle here, that's dry. Optical illusion…"

Lopez shook his head slowly. "Que soy muy malos en esto." (You are very bad at this.)

"Please, come on!" Simmons pleaded.

"Me lleme tar atar la huerta," Lopez decided, turning the other direction. "Veo de otra manera." (I will just go around. I see another way in."

"What?" Simmons gasped. "NOOO! Wait!" He jumped off the ledge and ran after him, stepping straight into the electrified puddle!

KA-ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! An electric surge erupted over Simmons' armor, flashing so bright that his entire skeleton could be seen.

Lopez turned at Simmons' garbled yelps and sighed. "Dios mio. Dame un respiro." (Oh lord. Give me a break.)

He made his way to the other side of the puddle and disconnected the jump leads. As the electricity died, Simmons stumbled back out of the water, his armor still sparking, and then he fell backwards onto the ground. "Ow…"

* * *

**Remember children; never play with electricity, unless you're wearing armor like Simmons was.**


	12. Mid-Game Substitution

**Our two teams are about to get some changes.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Mid-Game Substitution

When Simmons came to, he was lying on his back in the cave, his body tingling all over. "Ugh, what happened?" As he made to sit up, he felt something pulling on his leg and there was a metallic rattle nearby. Slowly he lifted his head and found that a huge iron ball had been chained to his foot. "What's going on?"

"Ola," a voice called out then. (Hello.)

Simmons looked round in fright to see a figure standing some distance away. His upper body was obscured by shadows but he could see his legs were in maroon-colored armor. "What?" he murmured. "Am I dead? I see my body. Am I in heaven?"

"Estoy tomando su lugar el Equipo Rojo," the figure said. (I am taking your place on Red Team.)

"W-Why is my body speaking Spanish?" Simmons then gasped in horror. "Oh _no!_ Did I go to Mexican Heaven by mistake? That's like white people hell!"

"No, pendejo," the figure retorted, stepping out of the shadows. (No, you idiot.)

Now Simmons could see the figure more clearly, he noticed that the maroon color had been spray-painted on his armor, so sloppily that in some places, its original color could be seen. It was brown. "Lopez, is that you?"

"Sí," Lopez replied. "Reemplazar usted es la única manera de que pueda tena acceso el equipo." (Yes. Replacing you is the only way I can get access to the equipment I need to study the earthquakes)

"I knew it!" Simmons snapped, getting to his feet. "You just wanted to become super popular so you could take my place!"

"Yo no debería que ser super popular para hacer que," Lopez scoffed. (I wouldn't need to be super popular to do that.)

Simmons glared at the painted robot. "**You're gonna regret this, Lopez.**"

"No veo cómo," Lopez muttered then he turned and ran out the cave.

"Well, _I'll_ regret this!" Simmons bellowed.

"Que ni siquiera tiene sentido!" Lopez shouted back. (That didn't even make sense!)

At the Red Base, Sarge shook his head in confusion. "I still don't understand," he told Grif, as another quake hit the canyon. "How does more breaks make us more efficient?"

"It's simple," Grif explained. "If we have less hours to do work, we get more done in less time. It's all in ratios."

"…Ola," a voice called out then. (Hello.)

Sarge turned round to see a maroon-armored Spartan approaching the base. "Simmons, where in Sam Hell have you been?"

'Simmons' gave a shifty look. "Cueva… estudio." (Cave… study.)

Grif frowned in confusion. "You sound weird."

"Yeah, almost like you're speakin' a foreign language," Sarge agreed. "But he's speaking very slowly and clearly, so I understand what he means."

"Me too."

Sarge then turned to 'Simmons'. "What've _you_ been up to?"

'Simmons' looked shifty again. "Las cosas humanas, como de costumbre unar y tener problemas de matemáticas mal si no razón alguna." (Oh you know, the usual human things like: urinating and getting math problems wrong for no reason.)

"Sounds boring," Grif muttered.

"I didn't understand that one," Sarge added.

"Me neither," Grif admitted. "But boring is always a safe bet with Simmons."

"Good point," Sarge agreed.

"Le riguero mi disciple," 'Simmons' said. "Tengo que ver elguanos equipos." (Please excuse me. I need to check out some equipment."

"Okay," Grif replied. "Bye, Simmons."

"Good luck at whatever you're doing," Sarge added.

"Gracias," the fake Red replied, running into the base, silently praising his luck at the Reds' gullibility. (Thank you.)

Meanwhile at the Blue Base, Church was slowly coming to. As he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a black figure standing over him. "Oh man," he groaned as he sat up. "Instead of a big _white_ blur, now everything's just a big _black_ blur."

The figure stepped back so Church looked round at his team. Caboose and Tucker were also sitting up and moaning and their helmets were lying at their feet. Church rubbed his head and felt his hair before he noticed his helmet lying nearby.

"Ow man," Tucker muttered. "My head should only hurt this much if I had more fun the night before."

"WHAT?" Caboose yelled, making the others cringe.

"OW!" Tucker yelped. "Caboose, stop yelling! Someone get me an Aspirin."

Then the black-armored figure came forward again and Church caught a flash of light sparkling off the blue ice diamond ring on a chain round its neck. Then the figure took off its helmet, revealing the face of a no-nonsense woman with fiery red hair and a fierce glint in her green eyes. He couldn't believe his luck: it was her; the woman that he'd entered the memory unit to rescue. It was Tex!

Tex shook her head in disbelief. "You guys are babies."

"_Babies?_" Church snapped, jumping to his feet. "You chucked a grenade at us, you stupid bitch. What do you expect?"

"Hey, there's a big difference between a flashbang and a grenade."

"It doesn't seem like it," Tucker muttered.

Tex turned to glare at him. "Well, if I threw a _grenade_ at you, I wouldn't have to have this stupid conversation right now. I would just be stepping over some disgusting puddles."

Tucker sighed and turned to Church. "This is your girlfriend, I take it?"

"Oh yeah," Church mumbled. "Tucker, Tex. Tex, Tucker, there you go."

"Sup," Tucker muttered.

"Hello," Tex sneered.

"Are people meeting other people?" Caboose shouted. "I want to meet people!"

"No you don't," Tucker retorted. "And stop yelling."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Yelling!" Caboose yelled as he and Tucker got to their feet.

"Now why would you attack us?" Church shouted at his ex. "Aren't you coming all the way out here to help us?"

"Hey, I needed to evaluate the situation," Tex replied. "I heard someone was dead, I show up here, and three idiots are standing around arguing. I'm not walkin' into that blind."

"So you made us blind?" Tucker cried.

"**Oh, boo-hoo**," Tex simpered mockingly, ignoring the earthquake that hit the canyon. "It's not lethal."

"So _what?_" Church snapped. "What, is that supposed to make us feel better? A kick in the balls would be nonlethal too."

"That depends on who does the kicking," Tex replied haughtily.

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

Tex gave a chuckle. "Hey, how 'bout we call it an experiment? See what happens."

Tucker quickly covered his codpiece with both hands. "How 'bout we agree to disagree?"

"Good idea." Tex then went into business mode. "So, who's dead?"

"Oh nobody," Tucker said. "We just made a mistake. We thought-"

Church suddenly gave a loud cough and butted in. "Uh, we thought we should bury our dead teammate and then take his name off the roster so that no one could prove he was never here."

Tucker looked puzzled. "We did?"

"**Yes**, because that's what she is here to investigate, Tucker," Church replied, giving a subtle wink. "And if that guy didn't exist, why would she stick around?"

"Oh right…" Tucker realized what Church was getting at and quickly played along. "Uh yeah, I thought she meant some other nonexistent guy, who didn't die, not the one guy who didn't die."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Tex cut in. "Why did you remove him from the roster?"

"Uh, I don't know," Church replied with a shrug. "It seemed appropriate at the time. You know, it's like a respect thing."

"What was his name?"

"Anderson," Church replied, at the same time that Tucker said, "Smith."

"Well, was it Anderson or Smith?"

"Uh…" Church thought quickly. "Andersmith… Private Andersmith."

Tex looked baffled. "Ander_smith_?"

"Oh, Mr. Andersmith," Caboose sobbed. "I'll always miss you! You were too young to die."

"Yeah," Tucker muttered. "He was like ten seconds old."

"Shut up, Tucker," Church hissed, nudging his teammate in the ribs.

Back at the Red Base, Donut looked around for Grif then he spotted him sitting by a hill. "Hey Grif, have you seen Simmons?"

"Yeah," Grif replied, pointing up the hill. "We're working on some equipment together."

Donut raised an eyebrow. "Together?"

"Yeah, he went up the hill, he said he needed my help, so I said, 'No problem. I'll be there in a few minutes.'"

"When was that?"

Grif checked the time display on his left wrist. "About 5 hours ago."

"Oh. So how is the project going?"

"Well, he hasn't asked for help again, which means I haven't had to think of a new excuse. So I'd say it's going great!"

Donut then looked up to see that the disguised Lopez was scanning the canyon with a small piece of equipment. "What's he doing?"

"I dunno," Grif replied. "He's got some new toys or something up there. I guess he's testing them out."

"Toys?"

"Yeah."

"'Toys' is a broad term, Grif. It can mean a lot of things."

"Gadgets."

"Go on."

"Electronic device."

"I think I'll go check this out for myself," Donut decided, running up the hill.

"You do that." Grif then settled back on the grass for his nap.

Meanwhile in the cave, the real Simmons was struggling to undo the chain on his leg, using a piece of wire from his helmet and a small stick to pick the lock. "If I could just wriggle free a little, maybe I can… loosen… this!" At last, the lock popped open and the manacle slipped off his leg. "There, I'm free!" he cheered, jumping to his feet. "Now to take my place on Red Team again!"

He made to leave the cave then he paused at the entrance. "Man, Lopez was right; I do say my thoughts out loud a lot. I wonder why I do that. I'm _still_ doing it! I really should try to stop."

He then held up his hands. "Okay, that was the last one." He was silent for a moment then he beamed. "Hey I did it! No, I mean- God dammit!"

Back at the Blue Base, Tex had made her way up a hill and was trying to get in contact with her superiors. "Command, do you read me?" she spoke through the radio in her helmet. "This is Freelancer Tex reporting in."

"Roger that, senorita, we read you loud and clearita," the radio operator replied cheerfully. "How you doing?"

**(Dammit, I thought we were rid of that guy.)**

At the bottom of the hill, Church turned to his team. "Okay, I just need to make sure she sticks around for a little while, you know so I can… talk to her a little bit more. And investigating this dead guy is gonna be a good distraction."

Tucker was looking slightly disturbed. "It doesn't bother you that you made up a guy outta nowhere, and then killed that guy just to have a chance to talk to your girlfriend?"

"No, no, no, it's like a… uh… whatever you call it. I-It's even. You know, he didn't exist before and he doesn't exist now. No harm, no foul, right?"

"Dude, you seriously gotta look into this 'stalker' thing."

Caboose then gave a loud sniff. "I miss him."

Church looked puzzled. "You miss who?"

"Andersmith," Caboose replied sadly. "He's a reminder of how close we all are just to not being here one day."

"He wasn't here any days, idiot," Tucker snapped. "He doesn't exist!"

"Oh, how could you say that?" Caboose bawled. "Don't you believe in the afterlife?"

"What?" Church spluttered. "Afterlife implies _life_ at some point. He didn't have one."

"Because he was so young," Caboose sobbed. "He had hopes and dreams."

"He _was_ a dream."

"Yes he was… to all of us who knew him."

Tucker stepped back nervously. "Okay, I'm actually less worried about you now, and I'm more worried about Caboose."

Church stepped forward and placed a hand on his blue teammate's shoulder. "Caboose, he didn't exist. You never know anyone named Andersmith. None of us did."

Caboose sniffed again. "Denial is an important stage in grieving."

"Yeah," Church sighed crossly. "Apparently denial is an important part of reality too."

"Yeah," Tucker muttered. "Take it from the guy who calls _that_ chick his girlfriend."

"Roger that. Over and out, Command." Tex ended her call and made her way down the hill again.

"Oh shit, she's done with her call," Church cried, looking around in panic. "Quick, uh, talk about something else! Uh…"

"Like what?" Tucker asked.

"Anything! Anything!" Church quickly retained his decorum. "Uh, okay… Um, you know what, I think you're right, Tucker! Cows _can't_ talk, but maybe they can't talk because no one's ever taught 'em how to do that, right?"

Tucker groaned and slapped his hand over his visor. "That might have been the worst ad-lib ever."

Caboose's jaw dropped a mile. "You just blew my mind with the cow thing."

"That ain't hard, dude," Tucker murmured.

"Alright," Tex declared, rejoining the Blues. "Here's the deal: I'm gonna stick around until we get this 'dead guy thing' solved."

"_Ohh, really?_" Church replied with fake intrigue. "Well, that's great! Isn't that perfect Tucker?"

"Don't gloat," Tucker sighed.

"Uh, Miss Scary, I have a question," Caboose piped up, raising his hand. "Um, how are we going to fix the dead guy… being dead?"

"Oh, we're not," Tex replied, whipping out her battle rifle. "We're gonna even the teams. Come on, let's go up the hill and kill one of the Reds. Then I can get out of this mud puddle."

Church's face fell several hundred miles. "Oh…"

"Hey, I'll even let you pick which one." Tex then turned and set off up the hill. "Come on, let's go."

Church grimaced in dismay. "Well, this sounds like… fun?"

"Let's pack a picnic," Caboose said.

"We could always just eat the Red we kill," Tucker decided. "Hey Church, pick the fat guy!"

* * *

**Ugh, they're resorting to cannibalism already? It makes me sick.**


	13. Planning the Heist

**Something important is happening in the past, so we're heading there now!**

* * *

Chapter 13: Planning the Heist

_**ON BOARD THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**THE MAIN BRIEFING ROOM**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

On the bridge, the Director stared through the window down onto the planet below and gave a mysterious smile. From the data collected from Bjørndal, he was able to trace the location of their next target, the device that could prove to be useful to Project Freelancer. However, he knew that security would be tight in that area due to the actions of Agent South Dakota. Thankfully, he knew that his team of Freelancers would retrieve the target from those that opposed him, provided that his calculations were correct…

At that moment, a glowing blue Spartan-II appeared before him. "Okay, well I just ran everything again," he said in a rather snarky voice. "All calculations are up to date, taking into account standard delays for communication and response time. Our window looks good!"

The Director smiled pleasingly. "I agree."

"Well, you should," the figure replied haughtily. "I'm sure you'd make the same calculations I did, just you know… more slowly."

The Director raised a disapproving eyebrow. "Arrogance is a rather unbecoming trait, Alpha."

"Are you seriously giving me a lecture on arrogance right now?" Alpha gave a snort then he looked up. "Heads up, you've got a visitor."

"Director?" a voice called out.

The Director turned to find Agent Carolina standing in the doorway. "Uh, just one second…" He then turned to Alpha. "Log off."

"Yeah, yeah, way ahead of you, bud," Alpha replied then he disappeared.

The Director then turned his full attention back to his top Freelancer. "Yes, Agent Carolina?"

"The team is ready, sir," she said.

"Excellent," the Director beamed. "Let us begin."

He followed Carolina out of the bridge and into the main briefing room where the Counselor and several Freelancers were waiting around the mission table which was showing a hologram of the planet. He took a moment to regard the team he had gathered for this mission. Agents Maine and Connecticut were easily recognizable by their respective helmets that they held under their arms. Agents North Dakota, Washington and Wyoming stood at either side of the table, their helmets by their side, while at the back, Pilot Four Seven Niner stood to attention next to Agent Florida.

The Director then cleared his throat and began the briefing. "Agents, your mission today is by far the most important you have undertaken to date! As our Number One, Carolina will be leading from the field."

"Thank you, Sir!" Carolina stepped forward and pressed some buttons on the table. A blue graph appeared on the surface and the planet sank down into it as she took up the sitrep. "Okay, here's what we have. As you may have heard, there is suspected Insurrection activity in this area. Our intel says that members of the UNSC loyal to the Insurrection have acquired a high-level asset and are holding it in this secure area." The holographic image shifted into several buildings and Carolina pointed to one that was taller than the others. "It's a hundred-and-ten-storey building in the middle of an urban environment."

"What does security look like?" Wyoming asked.

"They have enough troops to fill a hundred-and-ten-storey building," Carolina replied.

"So," Wyoming murmured, running a hand over his neatly-groomed moustache. "That's a lot of security."

"We're up to it," Carolina reassured. "Our job is to infiltrate the building, work our way up to the floor where the Sarcophagus is being held, and secure it."

North raised an eyebrow. "The Sarcophagus?"

"That is what we are calling the primary objective," the Director explained.

"But," Carolina continued. "Since this is a high-level asset, we need to access a key code to open the Sarcophagus."

"I'm guessing they don't keep that just taped to the side," Washington sighed.

"Right," Carolina agreed. "It's held by Rhee Sebiel, an official of the program who will be moving in a vehicle along the freeway between inspections." On the hologram, a ribbon of road appeared alongside the city, with several cars running along it. One of the cars flashed red and stopped in the middle, showing an image of the official's face over it. "That's when we'll hit the facility. We need to acquire the targets within minutes of each other. We fail that, the remaining target will enter lockdown and we miss our window."

"We will _not_ have another chance at this," the Director emphasized.

"So that means two teams," Wash realized.

"Two teams," Carolina agreed. "Team A will consist of me, Wash, and Maine." At the sound of his name, Maine cracked his knuckles and gave a deep chuckle. "We will work on infiltration on the Package's storage facility. York is still in the infirmary, so Wash, you will have to pull off picking duty."

"Um… okay," Wash muttered nervously. "Guess I'll re-read my field manual on the transport."

"Hey, don't be so quick to give away my job," a familiar voice called out.

The Freelancers spun round to see York standing in the doorway, fully armored and with a cheeky grin on his scarred face.

"York?" Wash gasped.

"I thought you were in the hospital," Carolina cried.

"According to their records, I am," York said, winking with his right eye.

Carolina noted his faded left eye and the blood still trickling through the wounds on his cheek. "How's your eye?"

"It's okay," York insisted. "Docs are lettin' me out tomorrow."

Wash didn't look so sure. "Tomorrow, huh?"

York sighed and went up to the table. "Look, I couldn't let you guys have all the fun without me. Besides, you need someone to get you in."

Wash nodded slowly then turned to Carolina. "Listen, I'm happy to see him too, but this mission… I don't know…"

"Hey, if York says he's good, then he's good," Carolina said.

Wash sighed and gave a shrug. "It's your call, boss."

Carolina then stepped up to York and hissed, "You're good, right?"

"Okay, look, I said I was _okay_," York admitted. "Good might be overselling it a little."

"It's settled, then," the Director decided. "York will join Team A and get them in the facility."

"Thank you, Sir," York said.

Carolina then resumed the briefing. "Transport will be two lightly-equipped Pelican drop-ships."

"We're rigged for fast running only, people," Four Seven Niner spoke up. "No heavy armaments."

"Team B will be North, Wyoming, and C.T. You will act as recon for Team A, and once we enter the building, you will disengage to attack the target on the freeway. North will lead Team B."

"Got it," North said.

"What about Agent South?" C.T. asked.

"Agent South will not be accompanying you on this mission," the Director replied simply.

C.T. glanced at the leader board behind her and gave a knowing smirk. "Hmm, guess the world's a tough place when you move down a rank. And where's our new recruit? Will she be joining us?"

"That's enough questions, Connecticut," the Director snapped.

C.T. then turned to Wash. "Notice he didn't say no…"

Carolina looked at each team in turn. "Team B should be simple. Stop the vehicle and grab the case. Team A, you have more of a challenge. Mainly the Sarcophagus is an unknown."

Wash looked intrigued. "How unknown are we talking?"

"Unknown in that we don't know its size, or its weight, or its dimensions. We just know it will have these markings somewhere on the exterior." Carolina pressed some buttons and the hologram of the city faded and was replaced by a large red symbol shaped like an inverted Y surrounded by three strange markings that none of the Freelancers knew.

North's eyes narrowed as he examined the symbol. "I saw those same markings on the oil platform."

"Correct," the Director confirmed. "That facility created the primary objective."

"Do we know what's inside it?" Wash asked.

"Yes, we know."

"How do we know what's in it, but not how big it is?" C.T. asked. The Director glared silently at her and she turned away. "Sorry, Sir."

"We have a job to do, people," Carolina announced. "Let's do it right and come home safe."

"That is all," the Director concluded. "You are dismissed!"

"Yes, Sir!" The Freelancers stood to attention then they set off out the briefing room and down to the docking bay.

As he followed the others, North spotted his sister standing by the entrance to the bay. He paused a moment to look at her but she turned away and left. With a sigh, North went after his team as they boarded their Pelican.

Outside, the _Mother of Invention_ opened its docking bay doors and the two Pelicans were released from their clamps and dropped towards the planet like bombs before their thrusters switched on and propelled them towards their destination…

* * *

**Stick around, readers; the action will be starting again soon!**


	14. Son of a Bitch

**We're heading back to the present again before the big action scene starts.**

* * *

Chapter 14: Son of a Bitch

_**THE MIDDLE OF BLOOD GULCH**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

As another earthquake shook the canyon, Tex led the Blue Team onto a hill that offered the best view of the Red Base. "Ok, pick one."

"_Any_ one?" Church asked nervously.

"Well, preferably one on _that_ side of the canyon," Tex replied. "But uh, I'm not all that choosy."

Tucker took a nervous step back. "Why are you lookin' at me when you say that?"

"No reason," Tex said, turning her head away. "Just pick one and take the shot. I'll cover you if they attack."

"You mean, shoot them with this?" Church asked, tentatively raising his sniper rifle.

"What else?"

"Uh, he's really not that great with that thing," Tucker put in.

"Give me a break," Tex sighed. "You're a soldier."

"Yeah, well that's debatable," Church muttered.

Tex looked around the valley then pointed at a half-buried stone. "Hit the rock over there."

"Okay…" Church raised the rifle, took aim and fired two shots… and they both missed the rock.

Tex gave an exasperated groan.

"Yeah see," Church mumbled. "I think the uh… the sun reflected off the rock face there and-"

"Just gimme the damn rifle," Tex snapped, snatching the gun away.

"Yeah, okay, thanks."

Down below, Donut looked round then turned to the disguised Lopez. "Hey Simmons, did you hear that?"

"Sí," Lopez replied, looking up from his work. "Sonaba como un rifle." (Yes. It sounded like a rifle.)

Donut just shrugged. "I'm sure it's nothin'."

"Por qué dices eso?" Lopez asked puzzled. "Esta es una guerra." (Why would you say that? This is a war zone.)

"Good point, Simmons," Donut replied. "Back to work."

On the hill, as Tex scanned each of the Reds, Tucker turned to Church with a pitying look. "Dude, this has to be embarrassing for you."

"I don't really want to talk about it," Church muttered.

"Alright, come on, it's not that hard." Tex switched the view in the scope around each of the Reds. "Which one should we take out? The pink one, the orange one…"

"Pretty sure he's yellow," Caboose cut in.

Tex frowned as she watched Grif moving towards Sarge. "Is it me, or does he seem a little slow?"

"Yeah," Tucker replied. "Caboose was held back a grade… or two."

"I meant the orange one."

"Ohhhh… Yeah, he's just fat."

Tex then turned her view to Sarge. "What about the red one? I mean, he's the leader, he seems tough." She then looked over at Lopez who was scanning the canyon. "Or maybe the maroon one, he looks like he's up to something."

"Yeah, I don't know," Church grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't really decide which one. Maybe we should put it to a vote."

"You know what, screw it! The maroon one is closest, we'll just shoot him."

With that, Tex raised the rifle and fired a shot, hitting Lopez in the head and sending him flying. "OW!"

"Nice shot," Church groaned.

"Thanks," Tex replied.

Below, Lopez looked round in confusion… to find that his body had completely disassembled, leaving him just as a head. "Mierda." (Shit.)

"What was that, Simmons?" Donut turned round to see that 'Simmons' had disappeared then he looked down… and gave a horrified shriek. "Oh my God! Simmons! How did this happen?"

"Wow," Tucker breathed in shock. "That was pretty fuckin' brutal."

Caboose raised his head up and clenched his fist at the heavens. "Andersmith, I kept my promise. You have been avenged."

"You know what, let me shoot another one," Tex decided. "I think you guys could use the advantage."

Church gulped in fright. "Um, are you- are you sure?"

But then Donut burst into tears and clutched his teammate's head close to his chest. "There was so much we had left to talk about, like our feelings and hopes, and _dreams_, and why most of your insides are wires! How could you just explode like this? We could have talked! You could've told me what was wrong!" He then flung his arms out and threw back his head. "NOOOOOHOHOHOHOOOOO!"

Tex lowered the rifle with a shrug. "Eh, maybe I'll let that one live. He might demoralize the rest of 'em."

"Good idea," Tucker agreed grimly.

"Come on," Tex announced, setting off down the hill. "Let's pack it in."

As they set off after her, Tucker turned to his team. "Does anybody else feel really, really dirty about this and not the good kind of really, really dirty?"

Church just nodded grimly.

* * *

_**THE CITY OF THE INSURRECTIONISTS**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

The two Freelancer Pelicans approached the city from the coast, flying low over the water like the birds they were named after. As they neared the shore, they banked up and made straight for the metropolis.

On the flight deck of Pelican Bravo, North glanced through the main window at their target. The building loomed high up the city like a giant's middle finger, almost like the Insurrectionists were showing their defiance at the UNSC.

After taking a look at the scanners, North turned on his helmet radio and contacted Carolina on a secure channel. "Team A, you look clear. Window is open. Start your clocks. On my mark… Mark."

"Sync," Carolina replied. "Roger that. Team A is moving."

North looked out to see that Pelican Four Seven Niner was swooping towards the tower. "Copy that, Carolina. Good luck, Team A."

"Thanks," Carolina replied confidently. "We won't need it."

With a smile, North disconnected the call then made his way into the flight deck where Wyoming and C.T. were waiting. "Alright, Bravo, let's move out. We have 3 minutes until first alert. Let's have our target in hand by 2."

In the city, Pelican Four Seven Niner hovered low by the base of the tower allowing Team A to jump off then it took off into the sky. Carolina then looked towards the 110 storey building ahead of her and took a deep breath. She wasn't scared of heights, but she had to admit that this was a pretty tall building. She then shook her head and set off into the tower, followed closely by York, Washington and Maine.

Soon they had reached the topmost floor and were standing outside a huge thick-steel door.

"We're in." Carolina left Wash and Maine on lookout then stepped up to the door. "York, get up here. How long to crack that lock?"

York confidently flexed his fingers. "Should take about 60 seconds. You can give me 15." He then stepped forward and Carolina nodded to a glowing light that almost looked like a blue eye. York gave a short whistle. "Wow, it's a holographic. That's high-end."

"Can you get through it?"

"Of course I can. You didn't bring me along for my good looks, didn't ya?" With a cocky smirk, York set to work on the hologram, flicking at the icons that appeared at his fingertips. "Whoever designed this is a genius."

Suddenly a red light flashed up on the ceiling and an alarm began to blare across the passage.

"You were saying?" Carolina gasped.

"Ok, I take it back," York growled. "Whoever designed this is an asshole." After a few more seconds, the hologram faded and the doors to the vault slid open. "There. Everybody in."

"Thanks, York, but do something about that alarm system. We don't need any more surprises."

"Does saying sorry count as something?"

Carolina just threw an angry glare and York bowed his head. "Hmm, guess not."

"We'll secure the package," Carolina called as she led Wash and Maine into the Vault. "Set some trackers then find a way out of this."

York nodded then set off down the passage. "Moving…"

Meanwhile in the building's lobby, two Insurrectionist soldiers, dressed in steel-grey armor with maroon highlights, were hanging around waiting for some excitement. The leader of the group had just won his fourth straight game of gin-rummy when the alarms suddenly began to blare.

The other soldier jumped to his feet in fright, scattering the cards everywhere. "What the…?"

The leader jumped up and ran over to the security monitors, scanning the picture of the Freelancers running down the passageway. "Looks like we got an alert on Sector 7. That's the vault." He narrowed his eyes and turned to the other soldier. "Take a team up there now…"

* * *

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-B (RED BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

"Simmons is… dead?" Grif gasped.

He and Sarge had come running at Donut's screaming and when they saw the disintegrated remains of the disguised Lopez, their hearts sank into their boots.

Now Donut removed his helmet to wipe the tears from his eyes. "I can't believe he's gone."

Sarge sighed as he and Grif also took off their helmets in respect. "Well, you know what they say in a time like this: He may be dead, but he's never truly gone… until we get rid of all his gross body parts. Grif, go fetch a garbage pail."

"Sarge, I'm grieving here," Grif retorted glumly. "Can't making up excuses to avoid work wait 'til later?"

"You're right, Grif," Sarge agreed. "I suppose someone _should_ say a few words." He glanced around but nobody responded. "Anybody? Come on, who knew him best? Donut?"

"Um, I think he said he liked gum once." Donut gave a despondent shrug. "I don't know, that's kind of all I got."

"How about you, Grif?"

"Me?" Grif asked puzzled. "Why me?"

"Come on," Donut cried. "_Grif and Simmons._ You guys were inseparable! Surely you guys must have gotten to know each other over the years."

"Yeah, I don't know," Grif admitted, scratching his hair. "He would talk a lot and I'd lose interest immediately. And then he would ask me a question and I would go 'Huh? What? Oh yeah, sure Simmons, whatever you say.' It wasn't a perfect system, but it was ours," he finished with a sob.

"But he always stayed by your side," Sarge recalled. "Isn't there anything you remember him telling you?"

"Huh?" Grif mumbled, looking round. "Oh uh, yeah Sarge, whatever…"

"What about you, Sir?" Donut asked. "Simmons always loved helping you."

"He did have a knack for following orders," Sarge chuckled fondly. "Sometimes, I'd make things up just to keep him off my back. One time, I told him to disassemble the jeep and rebuild it, just to keep him busy." He gave a short laugh then sighed. "I'll miss doing that."

At that moment, the real Simmons came running over the hill behind them. "Guys, guys, I'm free!" He then screeched to a halt when he saw the remains of the robot. "Oh, wow, you already killed Lopez. Awesome."

"Can it, Simmons," Sarge snapped. "We're trying to give your eulogy!"

"But I'm not dead, I'm-" Simmons broke off with a gasp. "Wait, you guys are talking about me? In a _good_ way? Okay, never mind, go ahead. Please continue."

Sarge cleared his throat and began the sermon. "Gentlemen, we are here to pay our last respects to Simmons. He died so suddenly, and so violently."

"Oh man," Simmons sniffed, blinking back the tears. "This is the best day ever."

"Simmons wore maroon armor, he talked a lot and did some work," Sarge continued. "Also, he liked gum… The end."

Simmons' jaw dropped in disbelief. "_What?_ That's it? _That's_ my funeral?!"

"Not quite," Sarge replied, replacing his helmet. "Let's get that garbage pail."

"I remembered the gum thing," Donut said.

Simmons sighed and shook his head. "I'd never imagined that my death could somehow be worse than my life, but here it is… bitchin'."

"I contributed to the 'talks a lot' part," Grif said.

"I don't talk a lot," Simmons snapped. "I talk a regular amount. Do you really think I talk a lot?"

Grif looked distracted for a moment then looked round. "Huh? Oh yeah, sure Simmons, whatever."

Simmons scowled at him. "I hate you."

Donut then gasped and slapped a hand on his forehead. "Oh man, I just realized! I could've made a flower arrangement for the funeral! Aw, there's just so few chances to do that around here."

"Don't worry, Donut," Grif reassured. "I'm sure one of us will get killed again soon."

"Oh, you're just trying to make me feel better…" Donut then smiled. "And I love that about you."

* * *

**Sheesh, and I thought Sarge's 'funeral' was dismal.**


	15. The Sarcophagus

**We're now getting to the most action-packed scene in this season.**

* * *

Chapter 15: The Sarcophagus

_**THE HIGHEST BUILDING IN THE CITY OF INSURRECTIONISTS**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

As Carolina led her team into the Vault, she took a quick view of her surroundings. The room was filled with tables laden with various weapons. Some of them she recognized as guns used by the UNSC and others were very alien to her, used by mankind's greatest enemy, the Covenant. Two huge purple planes, known as Banshees, hung from the ceiling by thin cables.

"Alright everyone, spread out," Carolina ordered. "What we need is here somewhere. It's probably something small, easy to miss. Take as many scans as possible, there may be other things we can use."

Maine and Washington began to browse the tables, examining each item like members of the _Antiques Road Show_. On one table, Maine's eye fell upon a huge rocket-powered grenade launcher with a huge blade under the trigger. A label nearby told that this was a brute shot and he liked the sound of that. He picked it up and held it out in front of him then he turned to Wash. "What do you think?"

Wash nodded approvingly. "That's a good look."

"Thanks," Maine growled, hooking the gun onto his back.

As Carolina examined a table groaning under the weight of some Gravity Hammers, York contacted her on the radio. "Carolina, motion trackers indicate you got an enemy team outside the door."

"Well, let's hope they're not as good at picking locks as you are, York." Carolina ended the call then turned to the others. "Alright team, we're about to have company."

Wash ran up to her at that moment. "Boss, I've got good news and bad news."

Carolina turned to look at him expectantly. "Hit me."

"We found the markings we're looking for. The bad news is…" Wash turned and pointed down the aisle. "They're on that."

Carolina turned to see a huge tomb-like box in the middle of the Vault. On one side, she saw the same markings that she'd seen on the hologram tattooed next to a small keypad. "That?"

On the top of the building, York got on the radio to Carolina. "Team A, I got us an exit up here: straight through the stairwell, door to the roof, helipad."

"Copy, I'll radio air support." Carolina glanced at the Sarcophagus again and frowned in thought. "Now, how are we going to get that _thing_ up to the roof?"

Wash and Maine just shrugged but Carolina had an idea and got back on the radio. "York, I saw a window-washer unit on our way into the facility, can you find where it attaches to the building?"

"I don't know," York replied, turning to the orange lift right next him. "That's a tough one; let me see what I can do."

As Carolina ended the call, Wash gave her a suspicious stare. "What are you up to?"

Carolina went up to the window and smashed it with the butt of her rifle. "Improvising. Come here, Maine."

"Improvising?" Wash groaned. "I hate it when we do that."

Just then, he heard a loud sizzling noise behind him and he turned to see a small blue flame burning through the door seals, which meant only one thing: the Insurrectionists were trying to weld their way into the Vault. "Better _hurry!_"

Behind him, the washer lift had arrived and Carolina shoved the Sarcophagus onto the unit while Maine nervously tied the cable around his waist. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Maine, it should work fine," Carolina reassured. "You're the only one heavy enough to counter-balance this thing."

Maine glanced out the window and gave a fearful gulp. "Too high…"

"Oh, don't be a baby." With that, Carolina kicked Maine out the window then raised her pistol and shot through the wire holding up the lift. Suddenly the whole platform shot up to the roof like it had rockets on its base, the winches above squealing with the speed.

As Maine plummeted down the side of the building, a guard spun round and just missed him. "Hey, did you hear that noise?"

"Probably the sound of you being an idiot," his companion retorted.

"Oh, you're probably right," the first guard muttered, turning back round before adding, "Dick-biscuit."

Up above, the lift finally reached the top, smashing through the winches and launching the Sarcophagus up to crash right next to York. "Package is here."

Ninety below, Maine quickly swung into the floor he'd stopped at before the broken lift could crush him. As he untied the cable, he turned round to see several guards running towards him, weapons drawn.

"Stop right there or we'll… shoot?" The lead soldier trailed off when he saw Maine towering over them. "We-we're gonna need bigger handcuffs." Then he spotted the weapon on the Freelancer's back. "Is-is that a knife? Rifle? Uh… knifle?"

With a sinister growl, Maine drew out his brute shot and smirked at the guards. "Say hello to my little friend…" Then he charged straight towards the soldiers.

Up in the Vault, Carolina could hear the dying screams of the guards. "Well, that oughta buy us some time."

Wash grimaced as he saw one guard get thrown out the window. "I almost feel bad for the people down there."

"Don't," Carolina warned.

"What? I said 'almost'."

Just then, the door behind them was blasted open but Wash and Carolina quickly whipped out their rifles and gunned down the guards before they could set foot into the Vault. As the smoke began to settle, they saw a huge figure stomping into the room. He was dressed in steel-grey armor with maroon highlights, his visor was patterned with two rows of teeth like a shark's, a flame sticker was prominent on his chest and he wielded a huge weapon patterned with a shark head.

Wash gulped and turned to Carolina nervously. "What the fuck is with this guy?"

Suddenly a stream of flame shot out from the weapon's nozzle, forcing the Freelancers to dive behind the tables.

"WHOA, that's hot!" Wash yelped.

Carolina fired at the soldier but the bullets just bounced harmlessly off his armor. "Damn it, he's got bullet-proof armor!"

"Let's see how tough he really is!" Wash grabbed a grenade and hurled towards the soldier but he fired his flames at it, making it explode. Then he fired at Wash, forcing the Freelancer back. "Oh, what the fuck?"

"I've got this!" Carolina raised her pistol again but then the weapons on the table she had hidden behind began to spark erratically. "What the-" They suddenly exploded with the heat and sent her flying back.

"Carolina!" Wash gasped. He then spotted a weapon landing next to her. Ducking down to avoid the flames, he dived for the gun, snatched it up, took aim and fired a ball of green energy at the soldier's feet but as it hit the floor, it bounced right past him and hit the ceiling.

"What the hell?" Wash cried. "It bounces?! Who designs a gun that bounces? This is the worst gun ever, of all- OOF!" His rant was cut off as Carolina pushed him out of the way of the flames.

"Stay low!" she ordered.

Carolina then pressed a button on her hip and took off across the room like a cheetah. She leapt over the flames, ran up the side of the wall and somersaulted backwards onto the wing of one of the Banshees. She then fired at the soldier to get his attention. In return he fired a stream of flame at her, burning through the ship's cables. Carolina then tossed a grenade into the ship's cockpit then jumped off seconds before the cables snapped and the grenade went off, sending the Banshee flying backwards into the soldier and sending him sprawling to the floor. As Carolina landed nimbly on her feet, she then grabbed a Gravity Hammer and hurled it at the recovering soldier, smashing through his armor and crushing his chest.

Wash got to his feet and stared at the dead soldier. "That guy was a _dick!_"

"Come on," Carolina ordered. "Let's get moving, Wash!"

As they ran out the Vault, Wash glanced at the carnage around him. "That bit with the purple plane; that was just showing off."

Down the passages they ran, up the stairwell towards the roof where York was waiting. "Come on, come on, hurry!" As they ran through, he smashed the control panel with his rifle and the door slid shut. "There, that oughta hold 'em for a while." But then he jumped back as the soldiers started welding through the doors on the other side. "Okay, maybe not." As he set off after the others, he then said, "Hey, where's Maine?"

"Downstairs, keeping our hosts occupied," Wash replied.

At that moment, an agonized scream rang up from below and York winced slightly. "Man, I almost feel bad for them."

"That's what I said!" Wash cried.

At the front, Carolina quickly got on the radio. "Four Seven Niner, this is Team Alpha! We need evac on the roof of the tower!"

"Roger that, I'm on it," the pilot replied.

"Come on, it's up…" York skidded to a halt when he saw someone by the Sarcophagus. "…here."

"You!" Carolina's eyes narrowed when she saw the black-armored figure standing up from the strange device. "What are you doing here? Is that a bomb?" Carolina stared at it for a moment then she gasped. "I knew it. It was you who blew up the oil platform!"

"That thing blew up?" Wash gasped.

"Somebody's been covering up our tracks." Carolina stepped right up to Texas and stared into her visor. "You're on the roster too, but they hid your name. Why did they send you?"

York quickly got between them. "Hey, hate to bust up your reunion, but we've got a problem!"

Right on cue, the doors were kicked open and dozens of Insurrectionists came pouring out onto the roof, led by a figure that Carolina recognized right away; the red-armored leader from Bjørndal. "Let's go, go, go, now!" he ordered his team. Get into position! Completely surround them!"

As the soldiers followed their orders, four Hornet-Class fighter-ships swooped out of the sky. Then several more soldiers wearing jetpacks zipped out of the Hornets like bees from a hive and landed behind the Freelancers, cutting off their escape.

"No one gets behind me!" Red Leader yelled, raising his rifle. "Drop your weapons!" As the Freelancers reluctantly obeyed, he then turned to York. "You, dickhead, disarm the bomb!"

"Easy, easy, no reason to get all dramatic," York reassured, kneeling down by the device. "Okay, let me take a crack."

"Just fucking do it already!" Red Leader snapped.

"Easy, easy, man." York picked up the device, glanced over it for a moment and then frowned. "Um, this isn't a bomb. It's a transmitter."

"Alright, it's not a bomb!" Red Leader informed his team then he looked puzzled. "Wait, a _transmitter?_ What's it transmitting?"

"Our location," York replied.

"Why would it do that?"

York just shrugged and glanced up at the sky.

In orbit above the planet, on the flight deck of the _Mother of Invention_, the Director waited in silence as FILSS prepared the ship's weapon. "System online, Director. Awaiting your command…"

Behind him, the Counselor began to look nervous. "If I may, Director, I think it would be wise if we-"

"Shut up, Counselor," the Director cut in sharply.

"Of course, sir," the Counselor murmured.

The ship then fired a tracking laser down to the planet, scanning for the transmitter.

Down below, Red Leader looked up at his prisoners and gasped when he just saw York and Wash standing there. "What the hell? There were four of them here? What the fuck is going on?"

Suddenly one of the soldiers turned to the others and started beating the hell out of them, her armor fading back to blue. Several soldiers turned to fire at her but they were then knocked down by an invisible being running around them.

"What did I say?!" Red Leader bellowed. "I said one thing! Keep them in front of me!"

Just then, York saw a red laser hitting the transmitter and he quickly handed it to the leader. "Hey man, you mind holding this for me for a sec? Thank you." Then he took a few steps away.

"Huh?" Red Leader looked at the transmitter as it started to beep then he looked slowly up at the sky.

At that moment, the _Mother of Invention_'s tracking computer locked on to the signal. "Target locked," FILSS announced.

The Director gave a superior smile. "Fire!"

"Firing main cannon," FILSS replied. Then from the front of the ship, a huge beam of light shot out towards its target.

On the building, Red Leader stepped back as he saw the light coming right at him. "Oh, son of a-"

KRA-POOOOWWWWWWWWW! The beam shot straight through the building, shattering every single pane of glass and sending the Freelancers flying back. As York got to his feet, he saw a huge gaping hole right where Red Leader had been standing moments ago. Suddenly, the whole roof began to cave in around them!

Texas then spotted Pelican Four-Seven-Niner approaching and ran towards the Sarcophagus, snatching up a dead soldier's jetpack and strapping it to her back. She then kicked the Sarcophagus off the roof and jumped off after it, switching on her pack and soaring off.

York, Wash and Carolina then took off after her as the whole building began to crumble and sink into itself.

"This _must_ be karma for kicking Main out the window!" Carolina cried as they ran.

"I don't wanna DO THIIIIIISSSSS!" York screamed.

"SON OF A BIIIIIIIIITCH!" Wash yelled.

They reached the edge of the roof and dived right over the edge, streamlining their bodies as they went after the Sarcophagus, dodging falling soldiers and building debris. The Pelican dived after them, drawing alongside the falling Freelancers.

Soon Carolina caught up to the falling Sarcophagus and landed right on top, her magnetic boot-clamps attaching to its side as she rode on it like a surfboard.

"Line it up!" Four Seven Niner called through her radio. "Come on! Come on! Stay on target!"

Carolina watched as the Pelican overtook her then opened its hatch. But then two Hornets swooped out of the clouds and opened fired on her. She jumped aside to avoid the blows and Wash quickly took her place, shooting a Hornet down in mid-air. Just then Texas appeared behind him and pushed the Sarcophagus right into the flight deck, sending Wash sprawling on the floor. "Ow…"

As Texas crashed down beside him, her armor started to spark blue.

"Hold on!" the pilot called as she pulled the Pelican out of the dive and flew out of the city.

Texas then appeared at the doorway. "Get the package back to Command, now!"

"On it!" Four Seven Niner replied.

Outside, York and Carolina, still in freefall above the city, watched helplessly as the Pelican flew away. "Well, there goes our ride," York sighed.

"You think maybe we should've had a fallback plan?" Carolina muttered.

"Hey, what happened to Maine?" York realized.

And then suddenly mere moments before they could hit the ground, an armored jeep burst out of the building right beneath them. Carolina grabbed onto the turret while York caught a hold of the roof. "Whoa! Are we in a car?"

"Hang on, everyone!" Maine called out as the jeep dived right into a tunnel.

Explosions ripped through the building's insides as it crumbled down to the ground. Then the jeep roared right out of the tunnel and onto the freeway. York was now sitting in the passenger seat and Carolina kept a firm grip on the turret as Maine swerved around the traffic.

On the Pelican, the pilot got on the radio. "Command, this is Four Seven Niner. The Sarcophagus is secure, I repeat, the Sarcophagus is secure. We are inbound. Two Agents aboard, Team's status unknown."

In the hanger, Texas took off her jetpack as it started to spark and Wash gave a smile. "So, jetpacks, huh?"

Texas just tossed it aside and then jumped out of the Pelican moments before the door closed. Wash raised an eyebrow. "That was interesting."

* * *

**So Phase one is complete, stay tuned for Phase Two.**


	16. Hell's Angel

**Back to the past we go for a quick respite.**

* * *

Chapter 16: Hell's Angel

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A (BLUE BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

Church grabbed his teal teammate's shoulders and stared imploringly into his eyes. "Tucker, c-come on, man, help me," he pleaded. "I need to find a way to have her stick around a bit longer."

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem," Tucker teased. "Maybe you and your girlfriend can find time to go on a killing spree. Do some real bonding."

"Tucker…" Church growled.

"Oh, that's right, not your girlfriend, just the girl that you're stalking, through multiple planes of existence, 'romantically'." **(Air-quote)**

"Please," Church begged pathetically. "I just need a little more _time._"

"Why, who cares?"

"_I_ do! I'm supposed to do this!"

"Fine," Tucker sighed. "Where is she now?"

"She's talking with Caboose," Church replied.

"Well, that should keep her busy for at least a few minutes; half an hour if she starts asking him math problems."

At that moment, Tex came round the corner closely followed by Caboose. "Hey, I'm gonna stick around a while longer."

"You are?" Church cried out then he coughed and said more calmly, "I mean… you are?"

"Yeah," Tex replied. "Caboose here said you guys need some help with the tank, so I figured uh, I could help with that too. What can I say? I like the kid."

"Plus I paid her a hundred dollars," Caboose added.

"Yeah, that too," she agreed.

"Money?" Tucker gasped. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you don't _have_ any money," Church replied.

"Good point," Tucker conceded. "Hey Caboose, give me some money!"

"Okay!" Caboose reached for his wallet then he paused. "Wait… is this a trick? I'll pay you a hundred dollars to show me how it works."

Meanwhile outside the Red Base, Simmons was busy tossing the remains of Lopez into the garbage pail while Grif leaned against a crate to watch.

Simmons flung Lopez's head over his shoulder and into the pail and shook his head. "I can't believe you guys didn't know this was Lopez, and not me."

"What do you expect?" Grif asked with a shrug. "He had the perfect disguise."

"He painted himself maroon, _badly!_" Simmons held up Lopez's arm and pointed to a spot on the wrist where the brown still showed.

"Exactly!" Grif cried. "How could anyone be expected to see through that?"

"He spoke Spanish. No one else does."

"That did seem weird at first," Grif admitted. "But you always go through those annoying phases. Like, remember that time you were gonna learn to play the banjo, or the time were gonna be a vegan?"

"What do you mean _phases?_ I _am_ a vegan. And I can play the banjo."

"I know, and isn't all that annoying?"

"But you couldn't figure it out." Simmons sighed and tossed the arm into the bin. "You don't know me at all."

"To be fair, we didn't know Lopez either," Grif pointed out. "We knew you both equally as little, so you can see how we'd get confused. Also, we didn't really care."

"Yeah, but Lopez was here for a day. I've been here for years."

"You have?" Grif gasped. "See, I'm learning new stuff about you already. Now the next time an evil robot tries to take your place, I'll have questions to ask it."

"Shut up!" Simmons snapped, picking up the pail. "Why the hell am I the one cleaning up my own body? This is insulting." He carried the pail over to the cliff and was about to dump it into the cave when he spotted a piece of equipment in Lopez's hands. He put the pail down and grabbed the device and some other items inside then he went back to Grif and held them up. "Hey, what do you think he was using all this equipment for?"

"I don't know, boring stuff," Grif replied with a shrug. "Who cares?"

Simmons glanced at the device with a curious eye. "Hmmm…"

"Oh, wait, I forgot," Grif groaned. "You like boring stuff. Never mind what I said, I'm sure it's something for sports."

Simmons looked up and grinned at his teammate. "It looks like we have a mystery to solve."

Grif raised an eyebrow. "What are you, twelve?"

Back at the Blue Base, Church went up to the tank where Caboose was watching Tex work, as another earthquake hit the canyon. "Hey uh, you got a second?"

"Sure!" Caboose replied. "What do you want to talk about?"

"No, not you Caboose," Church sighed. "I want to talk to Tex."

At the sound of her name, Tex looked up from her work as Caboose nodded. "Okay, go ahead."

"I wanna talk to her alone."

"You can't talk to someone alone, there has to be two people. Those are the rules. I don't make them."

"_By myself!_"

"Well, I suppose she could stand pretty far away, and then you can yell. That might work."

Church gave an exasperated sigh. "Caboose, I would like for you, to leave."

"Oh I get it," Caboose said. "I-I'm so embarrassed. I'll just go over there for a little while."

"Thank you."

"Come on, Tex."

"No, no, no, no, no!" Church yelled. "Tex please, can you help me out here?"

"Oh no, no, no," Tex chuckled. "I'm sure this conversation is a lot more entertaining than whatever you want to say to me."

Back at the Red Base, Simmons had asked Sarge to call an emergency meeting so the leader called Grif and Donut into the flag room right away as another earthquake shook the base. "Men, thanks for gathering so quickly," Sarge began. "It appears we have a crisis on our hands. I'm going to turn this meeting over to our Chief Science Engineer, Simmons…"

"Oh, finally some respect," Simmons muttered.

"…who is gonna talk for a _little_ while, but not too much," Sarge continued. "And he's not going to over-explain things in that way he does, and then he's gonna stop talking and turn the meeting back over to me. Simmons?"

"Thank you, Sarge." Simmons stepped forward, took off his helmet and cleared his throat then he looked at his team with a grim expression. "Men, I have made a grave discovery. Analyzing equipment that Lopez was using, I have found that the planet is undergoing a total seismic breakdown. There's clear evidence of an unstoppable chain of events which is leading to a full systemic collapse. Now I realize this may cause some of you to panic."

Grif and Donut just swapped puzzled looks and Simmons's shoulders slumped. "Or it may confuse most of you because you don't understand what I said."

"Can we wrap this up please?" Sarge ordered.

Simmons let out a sigh. "The world is breaking, we're all gonna die."

"What!?" Grif gasped.

"Why would you tell us like that?" Donut screamed. "It's like ripping off a Band-Aid!"

"You know what, fuck you guys," Simmons snapped, stomping back in line. "Stupid people get to live a life of worry and fear, you're all doomed."

Grif covered his face with his hands. "This is the worst news ever."

"Men, don't worry," Sarge reassured. "We've got a plan in place to resolve the problem."

"I can't wait to hear this," Simmons murmured.

As another more violent earthquake shook the base, Sarge took out an easel and placed it next to him. He then put on a drawing showing a rough stick-figure of himself standing boldly on top of a planet, holding a flag next to him, underneath the words 'Sarge's Plan to Kick the Planet's Ass.' "Now we all know that the _planet_ is trying to kill us. So we need to strike back, and quickly! Scare the crap out of it."

"What?" Simmons cried.

"Grif, what's that bad sci-fi movie where they discover a natural disaster and their first attempt to solve the problem is to use a huge bomb?"

"That's… every bad sci-fi movie, Sir," Grif replied.

"Exactly. So that's what _we're_ gonna do. Now here's the plan." Sarge ripped off the first drawing to reveal another one, this one showing the planet's multiple layers beneath its surface marked with arrows that showed the names of the layers. "We're going to build an enormous drilling machine and institute my three phase plan." He pointed at each layer on the drawing with the tip of his shotgun. "Step one, bust through the crust; step two, skedaddle through the mantle; step three, bore to the core. Once in the core, we'll set off an enormous bomb to destabilize the planet."

"How will a bomb stabilize the planet?" Simmons asked.

"It won't; duh. But through a series of dramatic setbacks, calamities, and yes, hopefully a few of us dying on the mission, we'll find the true cause and solution to the problem, and save the world."

**(So, basically it's the whole plot line of The Core.)**

"Seriously?" Simmons groaned.

"I like the plan," Grif said.

"Me too," Donut agreed. "Let's do it."

"Great!" Sarge clapped his hands together eagerly. "I'll get to work on the drill. Donut, you find the deepest darkest hole where we can stick it in."

"I have a list of candidates right here!" Donut cried.

"Grif, I need you to build us a bomb."

Grif looked baffled. "How the hell do I do that?"

"Find a way, son," Sarge ordered. "Time is short."

"Okay…" Grif scratched the top of his helmet in thought. "Uh, I guess I'll look on the Internet."

"Excellent!" Sarge cheered. "Let's get to work, men, we've got a planet to fight! …I mean save. Whatever."

* * *

_**THE FREEWAY ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE CITY**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

Things were looking grim for Team B. As soon as their jeep had come within sight of the car that Rhee Sebial was in, the police escorts had opened fire on them, forcing their jeep to crash. They quickly took cover behind their vehicle and returned fire, but Wyoming took a hit on the shoulder and went down fast so C.T. broke off her fire to examine him, leaving North to face the police alone.

Now as he pulled back to reload his rifle, Carolina's voice called to him through his helmet radio. "Team B, report. Team B!"

"Team B is down!" North reported. "We have wounded, and are taking fire!"

"We'll be right there."

"Negative," North said. "Get the package and get it out of the city."

Further up the road, Carolina nodded. "Roger that."

As Maine kept the jeep going as fast as he could, York quickly typed in some numbers on the tracking screen. "Reading Team B's tracker…" At last, the screen started beeping and a red light flashed on the map. "Okay, there he is. I got it."

"We'll cut 'em off at the overpass," Carolina decided. "Go, go!"

With a nod, Maine took the next turnoff onto the bridge and set off in pursuit.

In another part of the city, Texas made her way through a building, avoiding the Insurrectionist patrols until she reached a balcony outside then she switched on her radio. "Come in, _Mother of Invention_."

"We read you, Agent Texas," FILSS replied. "Go ahead."

"FILSS, I need you to fire ordinance pod 0-4-0-1 to my position."

"I am sorry, but I cannot verify the contents of that pod. Protocol dictates that all-"

"Just fire it, FILSS," the Director's voice cut in.

"Acknowledged," FILSS replied. "Safety protocol override. Firing pod 0-4-0-1."

Texas waited a few seconds then a huge pod crashed down onto the roof nearby. As she approached, a large panel opened up and slid down… to reveal an armored motorcycle and a fully-loaded rocket launcher inside. "Hello there…"

Outside the building, one of the patrolling guards spun around. "Did you fucking hear that?"

"Uh, no man," his partner replied.

"You didn't?" the first guard cried. "It was like-"

Suddenly the motorcycle crashed right through the window behind them and landed right next to them. The guards only had time to see Texas wink at them before she drove off down the freeway.

"How 'bout that?" the first guard yelled. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I heard it," his friend replied as they jumped into their jeeps and set off in pursuit.

Further down the road, Carolina, York and Maine had reached the bridge that went over the main freeway and waited. Then they spotted Rhee's car approaching them and Carolina turned to Maine. "Get ready."

Maine nodded and climbed onto the railing on the other side. Then just before the car reached the bridge, Carolina yelled out, "Now!"

With that, Maine leapt off the bridge and landed neatly on the bonnet of the car. "Hand over the package _right now_, or I'll be forced to take drastic measures!"

"What the hell?" Rhee quickly spun the wheel round and swerved the car, trying to throw the Freelancer off.

But Maine managed to cling on tight then he whipped out his brute shot and turned it so that the blade was facing Rhee. "Looks like we're gonna do this the hard way…"

* * *

**I'm pretty sure you can guess how this is gonna end.**


	17. Spiral

**Here's another intermission before the real fun starts.**

Chapter 17: Spiral

* * *

_**OUTPOST 1: BLOOD GULCH**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

Night had fallen over the canyon like a giant's shadow, one of the rare days that it happened, but the Red Base was still a hive of activity as the Reds prepared for their heroic attempt. Sarge and Simmons were browsing over the plans for the drill, Donut was wandering round the caves looking for the deepest hole they could use, and Grif was still thinking of where he could get a bomb while he slept.

At the Blue Base, Tucker and Caboose were fast asleep in their bunks at the sleeping quarters, dressed in their army-issued pajamas. Church was still wide awake however, but it wasn't because of insomnia. He waited until he was sure the others were asleep then he climbed out of his bed and crept down the corridors until he was outside the base.

The moon hung in the darkened sky like a glowing snowball, lighting up the canyon. Church then spotted the tank nearby. As he approached, Tex poked her head up from the cabin, her visor lit up by the headlights in her helmet. "Goddamn it…" She let out an angry sigh.

"Still won't start, huh?" Church called out.

Tex looked round and spotted Church standing by the tank's tread. "No. But it's gettin' there."

"Did you uh, try checking the starter?" Church asked.

"Oh, what a brilliant idea," Tex scoffed sarcastically. "Next you're gonna ask me if I tried the keys."

"You have keys?"

"**No.**"

Church sighed then he climbed up onto the tank and sat down by the turret. "How do you know so much about vehicles?"

"You know, during the training," Tex replied as she fiddled with the wires under the control panel. "We had to learn to care for our equipment. Plus, I've always like cars."

"Uh, training, huh?" Church murmured. "Was that before…?"

"Before what?" Tex snapped. "Before I was killed? Before you brought me back as, whatever I am now?"

"Oh. You know about that?"

"Well, of course I do. I know what you know. You made me."

"Well… no, not _me._"

"Whatever. _Him._"

"Yeah." Church looked up at the stars for a moment, thinking over the memories he had seen while he was searching for Tex. "Hey, why did he do it? I… don't even remember when you first came around; you were just… kinda there one day. It was like uh… a training session or something like that."

"Yeah," Tex sighed. "Wyoming and Maine… big dummies."

"Well, why did he bring you back?"

"You know what, Church? I don't know. You tell me. He didn't exactly ask me what _I_ wanted; I just kind of came along for the ride. I didn't get a vote."

"But you were there when Alpha was there. Nobody else was."

"I don't know. What can I say? I guess we were inseparable." Tex finished the rewiring and pressed some buttons… and at last the tank's engine roared and the whole thing shuddered, almost throwing Church off. "There you go! Tank's fixed!" Tex cheered, climbing out of the tank. "See what happens when you treat something right?"

"Yeah…" Church glanced up at the sky again just in time to see a shooting star flying past. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I think I do…"

* * *

_**THE FREEWAY OUTSIDE THE CITY**_

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

York drove the jeep down the road for a while until he spotted Maine waving to them by the wreck of Rhee's car. As he pulled up, the bigger Freelancer smiled and held up a white briefcase. "Going my way?"

Behind the turret, Carolina beamed. "Nice work, Maine."

"Thanks," Maine grunted, sticking the case onto his back as he climbed into the jeep.

"Yeah, subtle as always," York muttered, noticing the brute shot's blood-stained blade. "Response team is probably on the way."

Carolina nodded. "Let's get the hell outta here."

"Hold on!" York slammed his foot on the pedal and the jeep took off across the highway, ducking and dodging around the traffic. "Coming through! 'Scuse me! Look out!"

Carolina then heard the sound of jet engines behind them and turned round to see two Insurrectionist Hornets diving out of the sky towards them. "Here they come!"

As the Hornets drew closer, three Insurrectionists wearing jetpacks leapt out of the back and flanked around them. "Behind us!" York yelped.

Carolina opened fire on them with the turret, but the soldiers ducked around some passing trucks, letting them take the hits. One soldier, who carried a sniper rifle, sped on ahead and landed on the back of a flatbed truck before taking aim at the Freelancers.

"Maine, protect the briefcase!" Carolina yelled as she fired.

Maine raised his brute shot to fire, but then he spotted an infrared laser beam and followed back to where Sniper was. Acting quickly, he dived in front of Carolina just as Sniper fired, taking the hit on his chest.

"Maine?" Carolina turned round to see the taller Freelancer slumping forward then she gasped. "Sniper!" She ducked aside as the soldier fired again.

Further up the road, Texas sped down the highway like a bat out of hell, dodging the fire from the pursuing jeeps behind her. She quickly ramped off the barrier into the other lane, swerving around the oncoming traffic. As one of the jeeps followed after her, she hit the brakes, sending the motorcycle wheeling round, grabbed her rocket launcher and fired at the jeep, sending its passengers flying. As she set off again, she spotted the Hornets pursuing Team A. "Gotcha…"

She swerved to her right onto an off-ramp, sending the bike flying onto the road where Team A was driving. As she landed, she fired a rocket at one of the Hornets, taking out before tossing the launcher away. She then whipped out her SMG and fired at some Insurrectionists pursuing the team on Mongooses.

Up ahead, the other Insurrectionist on jetpacks opened fire on the Freelancers and Carolina ducked behind the turret. "Punch it!"

"It's punched!" York yelled back.

Then one Insurrectionist, with blonde hair sticking out from the bottom of her helmet, landed on the jeep's bonnet and raised her shotgun but Carolina jumped to the front, knocked the gun away and kicked Blondie off the car. But then Blondie switched on her jetpack, whipped out a knife and swung out at Carolina, knocking towards the edge of the bonnet.

Behind them, Maine began to stir but then Blondie planted her foot on his back, knocking him out again, and snatched the briefcase off his back. But then Carolina ran forward and kicked Blondie back, sending the case flying. Carolina fumbled with for a moment before getting a firm grip on it. "Got it."

But then the second Insurrectionist, who wore a sleeveless suit of armor, dived down and kicked Carolina off the jeep, grabbing the case back. Carolina grabbed onto the bonnet and pulled herself back on as Sleeveless raised his rifle and pointed it at the still-unconscious Maine's head.

"Hold on!" York swerved the jeep hard left, flinging Sleeveless forward. The soldier bumped into Carolina and they both flew off the jeep and landed on a truck, scattering its load of oil drums like skittles.

As York swerved to avoid the barrels, Maine stirred in his seat. "What happened? What did I miss?"

"Just about _everything_!" York cried.

On the truck, Carolina managed to retrieve the briefcase but then Blondie dived out of the sky and fired at her, sending the Freelancer into cover. At the same time, Sleeveless picked up a barrel and flung it towards the jeep, knocking its turret off.

"Would you quit throwing shit?!" York bellowed. Then he spotted the truck with Sniper on board drawing up next to him. "On your left, on your left!"

Sniper raised his rifle and fired at them, but York swerved back to avoid the hit then rammed the jeep right into the truck, sending Sniper flying. The soldier switched on his jetpack to regain his balance and took after the jeep, but as he drew up to them, Maine punched him back into the path of a barrel and he was knocked back down again.

York then sped up the jeep until it drew up alongside the barrel truck. "Watch it! Watch it!"

Maine leapt off the jeep to rugby-tackle Blondie but she jumped out of the way then kicked him back into Carolina, leaving the two Freelancers back to back as they faced their opponents. Maine felt the briefcase clip onto his back then he charged towards Sleeveless while Carolina fought it out with Blondie.

"On the right!" York tossed the brute shot out and Carolina snatched it out of the air. She then did a Matrix-style jump to avoid the bullets fired at her before she plunged the brute shot's blade into Blondie's chest.

But as she fell back, Blondie tossed her pistol over to Sleeveless, who caught it before punching Maine back. As the Freelancer swung his fist out, Sleeveless caught it then fired the pistol right into Maine's throat. He then threw Maine to the floor and held him down with his foot as he fired at his throat again and again.

"NOOO!" Carolina tackled Sleeveless off her friend and swung the brute shot down at him but he ducked aside and kicked her away. The wounded Blondie then flew into the fray.

Behind them, Maine staggered to his feet, blood pouring down his throat, and grabbed his brute shot. "Have to… protect… Carolina…" he gurgled, taking aim at the Insurrectionists. But just as he pressed the trigger, Blondie fired at his shoulder, disrupting his aim and making him hit the rear of the truck. The Truck swerved round violently and smashed into a car, sending its four unknown hitchhikers flying through the air.

As she flew, Carolina reached out for the briefcase still on Maine's back but just missed and landed on the back of York's jeep. Maine however bounced off the road a few times before a speeding truck smashed him right off the road. Sleeveless snatched up the briefcase and took off towards his Hornet.

Behind them, Texas roared round her other pursuer and fired at the Hornet, but Sleeveless ducked to avoid the bullets. The Hornet then dived into a tunnel, its rotor smashing the door controls. Texas gunned her cycle and took off into the tunnel.

Carolina gasped as she saw the doors begin to slide. "Don't let her grab it first!"

"Who cares who gets it first?" York yelled.

"I do!"

But as they drew closer, Carolina realized that the jeep wouldn't make it through in time. "Bail out!"

"Bailing!" York leapt out of the jeep and rolled down the road.

Carolina mounted the jeep's roof and rode it like a surfboard towards the closing doors. Then just before the tunnel was completely sealed shut, she leapt through the gap and activated her speed unit, hitting the ground running as she set off after Texas.

Outside the tunnel, York staggered to his feet and stared at the burning wreckage of the jeep by the tunnel's doors. "Man, I've _got_ to quit jumping off stuff today." He then spotted Pelican Four-Seven-Niner approaching and waved his arms to flag it down.

In the tunnel, Carolina spotted the Hornet up ahead and urged herself to speed up, ducking around cars as she drew up next to Texas. "Fall back, Agent Carolina. I've got this!"

"You fall back!" Carolina retorted.

Texas scowled at her and accelerated her bike. The Hornet left the tunnel and began to ascend but Texas drove her bike up an off-ramp and bailed out just as it left the end. Sleeveless spotted the bike approaching and jumped off just as it smashed into the Hornet in a fiery explosion. He quickly switched on his jetpack and took off.

Texas flipped round and landed on her feet just as Carolina overtook her. As Sleeveless flew away from the highway, she leapt over the traffic barrier and fired her grappling hook at a crane, swinging over the buildings like Spiderman. She landed on a rooftop and took off after Sleeveless, jumping over the roofs in pursuit. Eventually she caught up to him and dived straight at him, knocking him out of the sky and onto the road.

Sleeveless' jetpack skidded across the road, propelling them down the road like a rocket-powered skateboard. He swung out at Carolina but she raised her fist and punched him right in the face, sending them tumbling down the road. A truck smacked into the back of Sleeveless and sent him flying, knocking the briefcase off his back. Carolina quickly curled into a ball as she skidded right under the lorry, but its back bumper hit her armor and she was sent flying through the air before smacking into a traffic barrier and crashing to the ground.

With a groan, she staggered to her feet, her helmet slipping off her head. As she shook her head, sending her fiery-red hair whipping round her face, she looked around and spotted the briefcase on the other side of the road… just as Texas walked over and picked it up.

"Command, the package is secure," Texas announced over her radio. "Heading home."

"Excellent work, Agent Texas," the Director replied.

"Thank you, sir." As she ended the call, Texas turned and nodded to the blue Freelancer. "Better luck next time, Carolina." Then she jumped over the barrier and disappeared.

Carolina swore under her breath then she looked up and spotted Pelican Four-Seven-Niner diving out of the sky. The hatch then swung open and York beamed down at her, holding out his hand. With a slight smile, Carolina picked up her helmet, grabbed York's hand and was pulled up onto the Pelican as it set off back to base…

* * *

**Well, that certainly was intense!**


	18. Labor Pains

**For the second part of this chapter, I'll be experimenting with a first-person perspective. I think you'll figure out whose perspective I'm using.**

* * *

Chapter 18: Labor Pains

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

Another day had dawned in Blood Gulch and the sun cast its warm beams down over the little canyon. A flock of birds dropped out of the sky to bathe in the sunlight and enjoy a breakfast of grass seeds, reveling in the relative peace of their surroundings until…

"Yeah you, you fucking piece of shit!" Grif yelled from the cliff edge, frightening the birds away. "You suck!"

At the Blue Base, Tucker let out an angry groan. "Jesus, is that guy still yelling?"

"Yes," Church growled.

"He's been yelling all morning."

"We know," Tex sighed, placing her hands on the side of her helmet.

"Make him stop."

"And how am I gonna do that?" Church asked.

"Shoot him with your snipe-" Tucker broke off quickly, as another earthquake hit the canyon. "Never mind, I realized how stupid that sounded as soon as I started to say it."

On the cliff, Grif cupped his hands around his helmet filter to amplify his insults. "Hey Blues, you _still_ suck! Yeah you, you fucking piece of shit! You suck!"

Just then, Simmons came up from behind him. "Grif, what the hell are you doing up here?"

"I'm doing my job, Simmons," Grif replied. "I'm working on my part of the plan."

"I thought your part of the plan was to build a bomb?"

"Uh, yeah, but I don't know how to build a bomb."

"Yeah, I know that," Simmons muttered, rolling his eyes. "You don't know how to do _anything._"

"So I'm yelling at the Blues-" Grif stopped to yell out, "You guys still suck!" then turned back to Simmons. "…until I make them mad enough to bomb our base –Idiots! – So, not only will they make me a bomb, I'll get them to deliver it, for free." He then yelled at the Blues again, "You guys are lame, I hate you!"

Simmons shook his head in disbelief. "That is actually the most sensible part of this plan I've heard so far. Your years of laziness have finally paid off in full, Private Grif."

"Thank you very much, Private Simmons," Grif replied, missing Simmons' sarcasm. "Now if you'll excuse me, somebody needs to be called a cunt."

Simmons gave a mocking salute as he set off back down the cliff. "As you were, Soldier…"

Grif nodded then he turned back to his work. "Hey, you! Yeah you, you dumb cunts! You suck! Hey up there, what're you talking about? Huh Blue? Are you talking about how bad you suck, because that's what I'm doing! I'm talking about it right here, only louder, _way_ louder, because I'm yelling…" He pulled off his helmet then cupped his hands around his mouth. "**BLUUUEEE TEEEAAM SUUUUUCKS!**"

He could see Tex's hackles were beginning to rise so he upped the ante. "Hey Blue Team, why are you so sad? Is it because you suck so bad? I think it might be!"

"That's it!" Tex cried out in rage. "I'm taking those _fuckers_ out! Caboose, get my toolkit!"

"Woohoo!" Grif cheered, running off back to base. "Success!"

Once she got her tools, Tex went into the base, locked herself in the garage and didn't come out again for three hours. Then at last she emerged from the base again, carrying a large black ball in her hands.

As the Blues gathered round, Church frowned in confusion. "What the hell is that?"

"That is my bomb," Tex replied, placing the ball on the ground. "You guys had an unused robot kit, so I used the parts from it to make this bad boy."

"Oh, robot kit, right," Church realized. "We don't need that now because I never died. That makes sense."

"Right," Caboose replied. "That was Andersmith's job."

"Stop it!"

Tucker knelt down to look at the bomb more closely. "This thing doesn't look like a bomb. It looks like a basketball."

"Oh yeah?" an angry voice retorted from the bomb. "Well, you don't look much like a soldier, dickhead."

**(Oh my God, he's back.)**

Tucker let out an annoyed sigh. "Looks like a basketball, sounds like a fucking asshole. Great."

"His name is Andy," Tex replied. "I had to include the voice synthesizer because it had the power unit. So now it can… talk."

"In other words," Andy added, "you want me to blow stuff up, you're gonna have to _blow_ me first."

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's pleasant."

"What do you expect?" Tex snapped. "He's a bomb. You want him to be polite, or you want him to kill stuff?"

"I want him to shut up!" Tucker yelled.

"Anybody care what I want?" Andy cut in. "How about Tucker's mother, polishing me, twenty four-"

"Fuck this, I'm out." Tucker turned round and stomped off into the base.

"Out, just like I got outta your sister!" Andy jeered.

"Hey, fuck you, bowling ball!" Tucker yelled back.

"Okay," Tex declared, rubbing her hands together and kneeling next to the bomb. "Let's plant this bad boy."

"Yeah, let's go!" Andy cheered.

"Hey uh, don't forget to lift with your legs, Tex," Church advised.

"Yeah, I know how to lift, jackass," Tex retorted. "I've been carrying this team the entire time I've been here."

At this, Tucker poked his head out the doorway. "I know I said I was leaving, but that was actually a really good burn. Zing!"

At the Red Base, Sarge had gathered his men around to prepare for their great mission. "Men, today is the day that will carry us to victory… against the planet!"

"You _can't fight a planet!_" Simmons yelled.

"Now I know there's been 'naysayers' along the way, but thankfully we haven't listened to Simmons," Sarge continued. "We stuck to the plan. Donut, do we have our drilling spot?"

"Ready for action, Sir!" Donut replied with an eager salute.

"Excellent! Grif, is the bomb ready?"

"Uhhh," Grif replied, glancing over his shoulder. "It should be here… any minute?"

"Perfect!" Sarge then pointed to his left. "And here's our drilling machine that will take us to the centre of the Earth… -like planet!"

The Red privates turned round and their jaws dropped in amazement as they saw the machine. It looked like a giant room big enough for four people, built on top of a giant screw.

"Woooow!" Donut gasped. "It's huge! You built that?"

"You know it," Sarge replied.

"Sarge, even I have to admit that that's pretty amazing," Simmons breathed.

"You know what's even more amazing?" Grif asked. "None of us saw it until he pointed it out to us."

"Thanks," Sarge said. "It took a lot of work and planning. I almost didn't get it done."

"Where did you even get the materials to build this?" Simmons asked.

"I mined them using my excavator," Sarge replied, pointing to his right. "That one."

"What?" Donut and the others turned round and their jaws dropped even further. There before them, a huge digging machine towered overhead, the tip of its digger just passing the very top of the canyon wall. "How did you build _that?_"

"I didn't," Sarge replied. "I ordered it online, via the Red Army Catalog."

"But why didn't we just-" Simmons broke off with a sigh. "You know what, never mind."

"Once again, I have to say, none of us saw that until he pointed it out," Grif said.

**(That either means that A. they were too stupid to notice it until Sarge pointed it out or B. they were listening so intently to their leader, they didn't see it until now. Personally, I vote A.)**

"Alright, men, it's time to put up, or shut up!" Sarge announced. "Let's do this. Grif, we're gonna need that bomb."

"Uh, yeah, I uh, just- uh, give me a minute…" As Grif looked round his shoulder again, an invisible figure ran right up to the Reds, dropped something at their feet then ran off again.

"Grif!" Sarge bellowed. "Don't tell me that you didn't-"

Just then, there was a loud cough at their feet and the Reds looked down to see a large black ball amongst them. "Hi there."

"All right, there you go," Grif said, jumping at the opportunity. "One bomb as requested. You're welcome."

"Ha ha, great!" Sarge chuckled. "I take back all the things I ever said about you, Grif."

"My pleasure, Sir," Grif beamed.

"Tick! Tick! Tick! Tick!"

At this, Sarge glanced down at Andy. "Uhhh, why is this bomb ticking?"

"Oh right," Grif realized with a loud gulp. "I didn't think that part through all the way, I guess. Uh, we're all gonna die now."

Sarge slowly lifted his head up to glare at the orange Spartan. "Grif, I take back the taking back."

* * *

_**ON BOARD THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

Where… am I? _Who_ am I?

Am I living? How did I come to be?

Wait, I hear something… some voices nearby… and some other sound…

I open my eyes.

There are people standing before me… at least, I think so… my vision's still blurry. They're standing around some kind of box… but what are they looking at?

What is that green glow? It's around me somehow, everywhere I look. To my left, to my right, above me and below- Wait a second, I have a body… and it's green. Why am I green?

I lift up my hands to examine them. They're in gloves? Hang on; my whole body is in armor. Was I always in armor?

So many questions… this is so confusing…

Wait, there's a voice talking…

"Keep it in its case, and don't let it touch _anything_ else."

Are they talking to me? No wait, two of those people are moving the box away. Where are they going?

I then get a feeling that I was being watched. I look round and realized that the other two were staring at me. My goodness, they were much bigger than me, or perhaps I'm smaller than them.

As I look at these two, I had a strange feeling that I'd seen them before. There was that dark-skinned man in the blue uniform with the handheld pad, regarding me with a look of curiosity. And this other man, with dark hair and spectacles… where do I know him before?

"Hello there," the second man says. "Do you know your name?"

My name… did I have a name? "I am… confused." Who said that? Wait a minute, I could speak, and I had just stated my true feelings. I was confused.

"Do not be concerned," the first man says. "That is completely natural given your state."

"My state?" I speak again. "Was I injured?"

"No," the first man replies. "Do you feel as though you _have_ been injured?"

"Counselor, please," the second man interrupts. Then he turns to me and gives me a comforting smile. "Do not be concerned. You are fine. You're safe. Once again, do you know your name?"

I take a moment to think about it. What was my name? Then I see something in my mind, rushing back towards me… "Yes. I know my name. My name is… Alpha."

"No," the second man says rather sharply. "Your name is not Alpha. You are mistaken."

I cringe slightly at the man's harsh words. "I am sorry, I am confused."

"Do not be concerned," the Counselor answers. "This is perfectly normal given your state. Would you like to know your name?"

I was feeling quite certain about my name being Alpha, but I didn't want to get shouted at again. "Yes please, I would like to know my name. I feel very confused."

The second man thinks it over for a moment. "Your name… is Delta. That is your name."

I raise my eyebrow slightly. "Delta?"

"Yes," the Counselor praises. "You are very wise, Delta. It is very nice to meet you."

I turn to look at the Counselor and narrow my eyes. "I think I remember you."

"No," the Counselor replies. "You have never met us before. You did not exist before today."

I didn't exist before now? How was that possible?

"Today is your birthday. Today… is a great day."

My birthday? Have I only just been born? This is all so confusing. I feel like my mind is about to implode… and I do not like it one bit.

"Do you know your name?" the second man asks again.

I shake my head to clear it. "My name is… Delta."

The second man gave a smile. "That is correct."

"Delta, this is the Director," the Counselor says. "He is going to take good care of you."

I feel reassured at the Counselor's kind words. "I am glad to hear it. I am very confused."

"Don't worry, Delta," the Director promises. "That will not last long." He then leans forward to look at me. "And when you feel better, we are going to do incredible things together, you and I. Incredible things…"

I don't know why, but something about the Director's words had sent shivers running down my spine…

* * *

**So that was how Delta came to be.**


	19. Whole Lot of Shaking

**I just realized that the first line from REM's 'It's the End of the World as we know it' would be very appropriate for this episode's situation.**

* * *

Chapter 19: Whole Lot of Shaking

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-B (RED BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

"30, 29, 28…" As Andy began the final countdown and the earth began to tremble violently, Grif and Donut began to run around in a terrified panic.

"AHHH! We're all gonna die!" Donut screamed like a woman.

"More importantly, _I'm_ going to die!" Grif yelled. "That's the worst part!"

"Men, remain calm," Sarge ordered. "This is no time to panic."

"25, 24…"

"Sir, the world is shaking apart, the ground is opening up to swallow us and we're holding a bomb that will blow us all up before any of that happens," Simmons shouted. "I submit to you that if there is any time to panic, **this is that time!**"

"20, 19, 18…"

Sarge stared at the bomb for a moment, looked up at the canyon wall cracking beside them then gave a loud sniff. "You're right, Simmons!"

Grif stopped running and turned sadly to the others. "I guess this is it, everyone!"

Simmons nodded glumly. "Does anyone have anything they wanna say?"

"I do!" Donut called out, running up to the group. "Well, gosh, this is such an honor! I have so many people to thank. All the little people-"

"Donut, this is not the time for your rehearsed Academy Award Speech!" Simmons cut in.

"Well, if I don't use it now, when am I going to?" Donut retorted.

"10, 9, 8…"

Sarge gave his team a solemn salute. "Men, it's been an honor to serve with you, and I say that using the loosest possible definition of both the words 'honor' and 'serve'."

"6, 5…"

"My only regret is that I don't have more regrets!" Grif sobbed.

"4, 3…"

"Well," Simmons sighed. "If I'm gonna die, then I may as well be honest. I never respected any of you, I thought I was better than all of you this entire time, I think my skills were underappreciated and I wasted my life knowing all of you. In a way, I'm sad to die but I'm glad knowing none of you will live either. There, I said it."

"2…"

The Reds closed their eyes and covered their heads, ready for the huge explosion…

"1! **KABOOOOOMMMMM!**"

There was a slight pause.

"Uh, wait, uh, kaboom! Ah, damn it! Urrrgh! Come on, kaboom! Kaboo- oh, forget it."

Grif forced one eye open and stared at Andy for a moment in confusion. "The bomb was a dud?"

The others looked up and frowned at the bomb for a moment. "I-I swear that's never happened before," Andy stammered.

"So… did you want to finish your thought there, Simmons?" Sarge asked.

Simmons glanced around at the team for a moment. "Well, this is awkward."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Andy muttered.

At the Blue Base, the Blues had quickly packed up as much equipment as they could and loaded it onto the tank, ready to dash out of the canyon.

As the ground began to shake once again, Tucker loaded the last case into the tank. "Okay, we're all set!"

"Okay, I'm driving!" Caboose declared.

"What? Fuck no!"

Tex climbed onto the deck of the tank. "Come on, Church, get in!"

But Church just shook his head. "I'm not coming."

"You're not?" Tucker gasped.

"Nah, you guys go. Good luck." Church turned to look at the canyon and gave a rueful sigh. "I don't know how much time we have left, and I think I'd rather spend it someplace I like." He turned back to the others. "Oh, and if you see Agent Washington, do me a favor and tell him I said 'Memory is the key.' He'll know what that means. Oh, and also, tell him I said thanks. Good luck guys."

"Well, I'm going," Tex retorted. "You can sit around 'til the world ends, but as long as I'm here, there's something I can do about it."

Church gave a little smile. "Tex, I wouldn't expect anything less."

Caboose let out a sniff. "Church, I-"

But suddenly, a really big earthquake hit the canyon, breaking rocks off the wall and sending them crashing down.

"_Ah, crap!_" Tucker yelped.

"This tank needs to move, _right now!_" Tex commanded.

Back at Red Base, the Reds gasped as the excavator was crushed under a big rockslide.

"Everyone, get in the digger!" Sarge ordered.

"It's no use, Sarge," Simmons cried. "There's no time!"

"REPENT! REPENT!" Donut screamed at the top of his voice. "Give up your evil ways! The end is _nigh!_"

"Oh, shut up, Donut!" Simmons snapped.

"Yeah," Grif agreed. "Did you suddenly find _God_ or something?"

"Yeah, I've never been much for religion," Donut admitted. "But I figure I can get it just under the wire. Why not change my bet?"

"Calm down," Grif insisted. "The world is not ending. Everything will be just fine. Everyone always thinks the world's gonna end during their lifetime. But the truth is none of us are that cool or interesting, so get over it."

Simmons gasped as huge cracks began to form in the middle of the canyon. "At the current rate of decay, the world will shake itself apart in just a few minutes!"

"Hey," Andy spoke up. "Does this team's health insurance plan cover the apocalypse?"

"Oh, give it a rest, Andy," Grif sighed.

* * *

_**ON BOARD THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

Running a hand through his curly hair, North sighed as he gazed through the window in the Freelancer's locker room at the leader board. Following the last mission, the order had changed once again. He and Wyoming had lost points for botching their part of the plan, and York, Washington and Maine had gone up a few spots for capturing the Sarcophagus. But the biggest change was when Texas had taken over the top spot on the board, bumping Carolina down to second place.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned round to see a helmetless York entering the locker room. "List changed again."

"Yep, lot of things changing these days…" York opened up his locker and pulled out his old helmet, still damaged from the training mission. He gave a quick glance then tossed it over his shoulder into the trash bin. "I think we've got more change on the way."

"You feel it too?" North asked.

York nodded. "I felt it since Texas showed up and when cops and military started shooting at us, yeah. I find that I just keep coming back to the same question in my head over and over again."

"And what question is that?"

York turned to face North, regarding him with his good eye. "We're the good guys, right?"

"Yeah," North replied. "Of course we are."

York raised his right eyebrow. "You don't sound so sure of yourself."

"No," North admitted with a sigh. "No, I suppose I don't."

Just then, South walked past them, glancing at the leader board with an angry snort then stormed out of the locker room.

In the passageway, Washington walked through the halls, his mind in a tizzy. Maine was still recuperating in the ward. The doctors had informed the team that Maine would recover, but his vocal cords had been damaged beyond repair, meaning he would never speak again. Wash shook his head in anger. If only he had been there to help him…

Just then he heard a voice coming from up ahead. "I'm trying. I understand, I-I just need more time to-"

"C.T.? Is that you?" Wash called out.

He spotted C.T. standing in front of a monitor screen. "I have to go," she gasped, switching off the screen, but not before Wash caught a glimpse of a soldier in grey-and-maroon armor. She then turned and stared at him. "What're _you_ looking at? Mind your own business."

"I should say the same," Wash retorted.

C.T. just scoffed and stormed out of the passage. Wash watched her go then turned to the screen with narrowed eyes. That soldier he'd seen looked almost like an Insurrectionist. But why would she be talking to them? What was she up to?

* * *

_**BLOOD GULCH OUTPOST 1-A (BLUE BASE)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

Caboose clung tightly to the outside of the tank as it drove out of the canyon. "Punch it, Tucker!"

"I am punching it!" Tucker yelled from the cabin.

"Well, punch it harder!" Caboose shouted. "Wait, try kicking it!"

"Caboose, this is as fast as this thing can go!" Tucker snapped. "It's a tank, not a fucking Lamborghini!"

On the roof of the Base, Church watched as the tank drove up the cliff path and into a cave that led out of the canyon. "Good luck, guys."

Tex then stepped up next to him. "So, think they'll make it?"

"Oh, I think they have enough time to squeeze in one last adventure. Can't really ask for more than that, can I?"

"Suppose not."

Church nodded and sat down on the edge of the roof then turned to Tex. "So, you decided to stay?"

"Yep."

"You finally gave in and believed me, eh?"

"Not exactly," Tex admitted. "I just figured you haven't steered me wrong so far, why bet against a streak?"

Church smiled and patted the spot next to him. "Well, come sit with me then. I got some great seats for the end of the world. I saved you one."

"Okay." Tex settled down next to Church and looked out into the crumbling canyon. "Sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." Church looked out for a moment as the world shook once more. "You know, it took a couple of versions of me to understand it but I think sometimes…" He sighed deeply. "Sometimes you just gotta let go. And if you do, the things you let go can sometimes come back on their own." He turned to Tex. "They did today."

"Wow," Tex breathed. "I guess that theory proved right then. Nick of time."

"Yeah, I guess it was."

"Any regrets?"

"Eh, a few." Church took out his gun and stared at it for a moment. "Probably should've learned how to use this damn sniper rifle."

"You guys did have a lot of down time," Tex recalled. "You could've practiced, I don't know, once or twice."

Church just shrugged. "Well, what can I tell you? I had other things on my mind, I guess."

* * *

**Well, now he's got the end of his world to think about.**


	20. Hate to Say Goodbye

**The end of this season is nigh, but not before a few little surprises.**

* * *

Chapter 20: Hate to Say Goodbye

At the Red Base, the team had just reached the main entrance when a loud and terrible ripping noise shook the canyon more than the earthquakes. They looked up and gasped as they saw the whole sky had a huge tear running right through it!

"Double rainbow, what is that?" Sarge gasped.

"Some kind of crack," Simmons replied. "The atmosphere must be breaking apart!"

"Repent, repent, the end is here!" Donut wailed.

"Well, I'll be in my bunk," Grif said. "I'm gonna catch some Z's. See you guys."

Simmons sighed in dismay. "You're choosing to die while taking a nap."

"It's how I lived, Simmons," Grif replied, setting off down the passage. "It's how I lived."

"You know, in some weird way, I actually respect that," Sarge muttered. "Adios, dirtbag."

At the Blue Base, Tex and Church leapt to their feet as the tear grew bigger, revealing a huge darkened room on the other side.

"I guess this is it," Tex breathed.

Church removed his helmet then turned to look at his girlfriend. "Hey Tex, there's something I need to tell you. I think it's important that I say this."

"Wait a second," Tex cried, taking a step back. "Look, I can take the whole 'at peace with the world' thing and I can even stomach all the 'accept your fate' stuff. But… just do me a favor, okay? Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I mean, we are space warriors, right? We should maintain some level of credibility."

"No, no, no, Tex. I think I just figured out what the Director couldn't, and Alpha either." Church reached out a hand and pulled the ring off Tex's chain. "It was you, Tex, all along."

Tex frowned at this so Church turned to face the canyon. "See I thought… I thought _we_ made _you_; the Director and the fragments. But that's not the case. You made us. When the Alpha was created, you just kinda came along for the ride. You gave the Director the idea that he could make something more, that he could split the Alpha up." He held up the ring to her face. "Don't you get it? This ring was you. _You_ were the memory. You were the key. You were so strong you made a whole other person."

He let out a laugh as he turned the ring over in his hands. "God, he always wanted to find you. You know, to get you right, to just see you one last time. And he wanted me to be able to do the same, to find you in here or… just go down another iteration. Figure out this little Tex problem. Figure out how to do it right."

He then looked up with a serious face. "But now I know. I know how to fix all of this, how to end it once and for all." He chuckled again. "It was so simple all along. I just had to tell you three words. Three words I wasn't capable of telling you before."

"Okay, wait a minute," Tex cut in. "Are you gonna say 'I love you?'"

Church sighed and closed his hand over the ring. "No, Tex, no. I'm not gonna say I love you." He then turned round and tilted his arm back. "I'm gonna say… I forget you." With that, he hurled the ring as hard as he could at the canyon wall. As it hit the rock, the heart-shaped diamond shattered into many tiny pieces.

At that very moment, the canyon shook again and Church closed his eyes tightly. "I forget you, Tex. I'm letting you go."

He waited for a response but none came. So he opened his eyes, took a deep breath and turned around… and Tex was gone, vanished into thin air.

Church let out his breath then put his helmet back on and turned towards the fractured heavens. "Okay world, do your fucking worst! …Because I sure as hell just did mine."

All of a sudden, a loud echoing voice rang out from behind him. "It's opening! It's working!"

"What the fuck was that?" Church turned around then looked up to the crack… and gasped in horror.

At the Red Base, Sarge, Simmons and Donut stared in dumbfounded amazement at the giant blue helmet peeking in through the crack. "I see him! I see him, he's in there. He's okay!"

"Is that Caboose?" Sarge whispered.

"Is Caboose… God?" Simmons scratched the top of his helmet. "I mean, I can _kinda_ see it now that I think about it. Sure would explain the fuck outta the platypus."

"Well, that's just great," Sarge sighed. "Caboose is God. I guess that makes me the first person in the history of the Universe that doesn't wanna go to Heaven. Great job, Blue Team. You find a way to make _everything_ suck."

"What? Let me see, moron." Caboose was then pushed out of the way and a red helmet appeared to look around. "It's just a bunch of circuits."

"Yeah, but they're glowing!" Caboose called out. "He's alive!"

Simmons frowned in confusion. "Um Sarge, what're you doing up there?"

"What? Is that me?" Sarge cried. "And more importantly, why am I talking to a Blue?" He cupped his hands around his helmet filter. "Attention, enormous version of myself, I order you to attack!"

Back at Blue Base, Church took a step back in horror as Caboose's head appeared in the crack again. "No…" he gasped. "**NO!** The memory unit isn't dying! This isn't the end of the world – it's a _fucking_ rescue mission! NOOOO!"

"Well, get him outta there," the big Sarge ordered.

Church stumbled backwards and stared in horror as a large blue hand reached into the crack and came towards him. "No, no, stop! Stop it! Leave me here!"

The next thing he knew, his whole body was fading away and the image of Blood Gulch disappeared all around him…

* * *

_**THE MAIN BRIEFING ROOM ON THE **_**MOTHER OF INVENTION**

_**MANY YEARS AGO**_

Her helmet under her arm, Carolina stared at the leader board with angry eyes. For so many months, she had been at the top of the ranking, everyone looked up to her and even the Director showed great praise for here. But then this Texas woman showed up out of nowhere, and in one fell swoop, everything changed. She was still admired by the other Freelancers, but the other staff paid more attention to Texas. She fervently hoped that one day, she would show that woman who was the true top dog…

Behind her, the Director gave a small cough and Carolina turned to face him. "Our next phase is ready to begin, Carolina. We will be asking you to do a great, many things."

"I'm ready, Sir," Carolina replied.

The Director sat up in his seat and gave her a serious look. "Some of these things might be… questionable."

Carolina gave a short nod. "I'll do whatever it takes. You've given me everything. I would do anything for you." She then smiled to herself. Questionable or not, if whatever this next phase did would make her better than Texas, nothing else would matter…

* * *

_**UNSC ARCHIVES (REAL WORLD)**_

_**PRESENT DAY**_

When Church came to, he was immediately aware that something was different. He slowly sat up and opened his eyes… and found himself sitting not at his base in Blood Gulch, but in a huge metallic chamber. "No…"

He then looked round and saw Sarge and Caboose standing next to him. "No!"

He lifted his hands and gasped when he saw not solid, cobalt-blue armored hands but white and see-through. "No, no, DAMMIT!"

He jumped to his feet and glared at the two Spartans. "WHHHYYYY! Why did you do it?"

"Church, you're alive!" Caboose ran up to give him a hug, but simply passed right through him and crashed to the floor. He got up and turned to Church with a smile. "See, I knew it. See, I told them! And she was right! We _could_ get you out!"

"Alright then, we're square, Blue," Sarge muttered. "We helped you get your shiny blue buddy out, so that makes us-"

"What are you doing here?" Church yelled.

"Saving you," Caboose replied. "We found you in the place where they were keeping you, and we traveled a really, really long way to come to this place, and fought a bunch of people, and then fought a bunch of more people, and then we got you and took you and saved you, the end."

"But why would you do that?" Church bellowed. "WHY!?"

"Well, clearly it wasn't to hear thank you," Sarge muttered.

"Hey, we're taking fire out here!" Grif's voice called from outside.

"_Thank you?_" Church screamed. "You fucked everything up! I was at peace. I had it figured out, it was over. Put me back!"

"Put you back?' Sarge cried. "Buddy, we just fought through an entire military base to reach you. And now you wanna go back?"

"_**YES!**_"

"She said we need you," Caboose explained. "She was the one who knew how to get you out."

"_She?_ Who are you talking about?" Church then gasped. "You mean Tex? The real Tex?"

"Tex?" Caboose frowned. "No, no, not Tex. The new lady."

Church looked confused. "_New_ lady?"

Right on cue, the door behind them slid open and a voice called out, "Hey there Alpha. I've been looking for you for a long time."

Church turned round to see a light blue-armored Spartan standing in the doorway, staring at him through her thin visor, and he gasped in horror. "Oh no!"

With a chuckle, Carolina stepped into the room and smiled. "Now that I've found you, you're gonna help me do what I should have done years ago." Her smile faded. "You're gonna help me kill the Director."

* * *

**Whoa, WHAT? That ending was more shocking than the end of Recreation! What is going on? I guess the only way to find out is to stay tuned for when I start writing Red vs. Blue: Season 10.**

**Until then, thanks to the readers for following my story so far, and especially to those two readers who helped me with some of the scenes.**


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